Don't look back
by AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: When Bellatrix Lestrange kills Sirius, Harry wants to hurt her as much as he can. She doesn’t seem to feel pain, and there is for him only one other way to punish her for what she has done. But is she really the mad and cruel woman he believes her to be?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for some plot lines._

_Warning: if you don't want to read about rape, this is the moment to return to the previous page. _

* * *

**Don't look back**

Harry watched dumbfounded how the dead body of Sirius fell behind the veil in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. The sadness and anger exploded within him. He wanted to revenge the one responsible in the most horrible way. Lupin tried to stop him, but when Harry saw Bellatrix Lestrange laughing wickedly at the other part of the Chamber, he broke free and ran in her direction. She hurried away, but he was faster.

"Crucio!" he shouted before she could disappear around the corner. She fell down, but the curse didn't do her much harm.

"You need to mean them, Potter!" she said, a twisted look in her eyes. "You need to really want to cause pain, to enjoy it. Righteous anger won't hurt me for long. I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson…"

"Expelliarmus," he yelled before she could kill him; he caught her wand and threw it far away from them.

"CRUCIO!" he shouted.

The spell was more effective now, but it still didn't cause her as much pain as Harry wanted her to feel. She was laughing at him, and it made him so incredible angry he couldn't punish the woman who was the cause of his godfathers death, that something inside him snapped. Somehow the boy in him vanished; it was replaced by a man who understood that there was only one way to hurt the woman who apparently didn't mind pain: take her dignity.

Not realizing exactly what he was doing, he threw his wand away, and pushed her flat on the ground, surprising her so much she realized too late what was happening and was unable to escape. Yet she struggled, but physically he was stronger than she was. He shove her skirt upwards, tore her knickers from her body and unzipped his trousers within a few seconds. He positioned himself above her and entered her with one powerful trust.

He groaned when she screamed and fought him, knowing finally that he could hurt her. He covered her mouth with his hand to make sure they wouldn't be heard.

"This is what it feels like when you hurt someone, you bitch," he hissed.

He pumped into her as fast as he could, aroused by her tightness and frantic struggle to escape. He bit her shoulders and breasts through the fabric of her clothing. That wasn't satisfying enough; he tore her dress, exposing her breasts, and bit her nipples. He tasted blood, but didn't know where it came from. All he felt was the anger within him that made him act like an animal.

She bit in his fingers, forcing him to withdraw his hand from her mouth. She managed to shriek again, but to his immense surprise she screamed in ecstasy instead of pain. When he dug his bleeding fingers in the soft flesh of her breasts, she pushed himself more into his touch. She even began to move with him. The sweat dripped from her body and there was an expression of pleasure on her face.

His mind lost the last control over his body now the pressure in him became almost unbearable. She helped him change his position, so he could penetrate her from a different angle and bury himself even deeper in her.

They groaned in unison. She tightened once more, and seconds later she found her release. Her wetness and the extra friction made him shudder. He pulled out almost completely, and entered her again so hard any other woman would've beg for mercy: all what Bella did was moaning in pleasure. It drove him over the edge. A few thrusts more, and he climaxed. It was like his body and mind exploded and would never be the same again. Everything around him faded away, all the feelings of hate he had, and all what remained was the body of Bellatrix beneath him.

He collapsed on top of her, and remained laying there to catch his breath.

Only when he could move again, minutes later, he realized what he had done. He had lost his virginity to rape woman who was so brainwashed by Voldemort that she had killed her own cousin.

Horrified he got off her and put on his trousers. Bellatrix remained lying on the floor, her eyes following his movements, not trying to hide her nudity or to run away. He spotted blood between her legs. The guilt hit him like a Cruciatus curse, and made him forget about Sirius.

"I am so sorry…" he muttered to her. "I shouldn't have…"

She did the most shocking thing that she could've done. She smiled.

"Don't be sorry for what you've done. I want to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Yeah. That was the best shag in my life."

"WHAT?"

She looked up at him, not embarrassed at all.

"You treated me badly, but not as badly as others. Believe me. And you regret it. You're the first person who ever feels sorry for me."

"I am… what?!"

"I don't expect you to understand. All I want is... well, I want to ask… Will you stay with me a little longer?"

"Would you want me to?" he finally managed to say.

"Yes," she said.

He had expected anything, except for this. He looked around: there was no one except for them. If she would feel better if he stayed a while, if the guilt would ease…

A bit reluctant and uncertain he sat down next to her.

"Don't be sorry for what you did," she said again. "I know how guilt can kill you mentally. Believe it or not, I experienced it myself… long ago. You hurt me, but it's alright. And about my cousin… I'm not sorry for that. He deserved it. I didn't kill him because he was fighting against the Dark Lord, or because he is your godfather. It was personal, a family business."

He didn't really hear it, he didn't even think about Sirius. She was such a complete mystery that for some reason he wanted to understand her first.

"Why don't you hate me? You should…"

"Then I should hate everybody. The Dark Lord, my husband, his brother, my sister's husband… you were nice, compared to what they did to me."

Screams from the hallway could be heard. Bellatrix and Harry looked at each other; not knowing what they should do, not even sure about what they wanted. She knew she couldn't run: he would probably kill her because she had murdered Sirius, or handing her over to her enemies.

Harry however didn't even consider killing her or handing her over. His young mind thought he had punished her enough, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her even more. Besides, he pitied her. And in a strange way she fascinated him. She wasn't at all the mad woman the Daily Prophet and even Dumbledore wanted to let him believe.

He took the Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and put it around them to make sure they wouldn't be seen. The Cloak was too small to hide them both when she was laying on the floor, so he helped her to sit up and put the Cloak around them carefully. It was still a little too small, so they had to sit close to each other to be really invisible.

Lupin and Mad Eye walked by, only a few yards away from them. They disappeared quickly, clearly looking for Death Eaters or members of the Order.

When they were gone, Harry and Bellatrix remained sitting together. Harry's thoughts drifted to Sirius, and he couldn't help but sob. Bellatrix put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed softly like she wanted to support him. When he looked up to meet her eyes she was crying as well.

A strange longing for comfort made them embrace each other. Harry felt somehow at ease when Bellatrix' soft body was so close to his. Together they hid for the world, underneath his Cloak. Caressing her back to comfort her and relax a bit himself seemed a natural thing to do. He was so tired of fighting he let himself surrounded by her being and enjoyed the way she was stroking his hair. The situation was so extremely surreal but at the same time it felt so safe and secure.

The imprints from his teeth were all over her torso. Harry touched them tenderly, as if he could heal them like that and take away the pain in her shoulders, were most of the bruises were.

"I'm so sorry…" he muttered again. "If I could…"

He looked down and noticed for the first time she was still naked. He couldn't prevent himself from staring at her small breasts. Seeing a woman naked for the first time had been different in his imagination, but now she was here with him he couldn't avoid being aroused by her. She must have recognized the way he looked at her, because she took his hand and rubbed it against her nipple. He was shocked and wanted to withdraw her hand, feeling embarrassed, but again she pushed her upper body into his touch while moaning contently, thus bewildering Harry.

"It's alright," she whispered. "Don't be shy."

"I don't understand it," he said, trying to keep his voice normal. "Why do you like this? Why do you want me to touch you?"

Before she replied she cupped his hand and showed him how to touch her. Her warm flesh and soft groans thrilled his senses.

"This is the first time someone shows affection for me. And I'm very grateful for that. Even if you are supposed to be my enemy. I don't expect you to understand. You have people around you who love you. There's no one who cares for me. So every second you take your time to please me, is a precious gift for me."

She said it matter-of-factly, but Harry could her the suppressed sadness in her voice.

"I know what's it like to live like that for a long time," he said.

He told her about the Dursleys. It was extraordinary he could share something that had impacted his life so much, something that even his friends couldn't really understand, with Bellatrix.

"You are so different," she said after he was done speaking. "The way he told us that you are… well, it's not nice."

She was referring to Voldemort of course. He wanted to distract her from the pain in her face when she spoke about him. His thumb caressed her nipple, so the look on her face was one of pleasure instead of fear. At last he understood that she wasn't mad or cruel at all, but longed for love so much she was ready to do everything to find it, although she didn't see she would never get it that way.

"Are you really in love with Voldemort?" he asked while stroking her collarbone.

She flinched, both because of the fact he said the name of her master aloud and he was touching her in a way she had never experienced before.

"Of course not, who do you think I am?!"

"I didn't want to mention it, but it's a rumor and it… intrigued and scared me at the same time."

"Well I can understand that people… think that. It's my own fault. During the years in his service I noticed that the Dark Lord tend to be a little less 'generous' in his punishments towards those who have a special position in his inner circle. Snape is the Dark Lord's spy – and don't think he isn't – and I'm his whore."

Harry should've been shocked by the first remark, but the second hurt him most.

"It doesn't really work though," she continued. "But people tend to leave me alone when they think I'm in love with him… or think that I am mad. Even Rodolphus, so I think that's why I do it."

"Who?"

"My husband."

"Your husband?!"

"Yeah. I married him ages ago. Biggest mistake of my life… no wait, the second biggest. But forget about it… I shouldn't say that. It gets me into trouble."

She looked around like she actually expected Voldemort overhearing the conversation.

"Don't worry," Harry said, "I'm not a Death Eater. It just surprises me. They always say you are so fanatical, and…"

"I was. But… I guess you didn't see my back?"

He nodded.

"Well…"

She turned around, showing him her backside. There were countless scars in many different sizes and shapes on it, from her buttocks to her neck.

The sight shocked him, like everything she revealed about herself did.

"Does it still hurt?" was the only thing he could think of to ask.

"The scars themselves: no. only when I'm pushed against something, or when I dry myself too rough after I took a bath. The memory of it, that's what will always hurt me. There are worse things than the Cruciatus curse. And he likes to experiment upon me. But don't worry about it, you can't help it. And you know… I hate moments like this. It remembers me that life can be good. That there are people who listen to you, people who are nice. People who care for you… maybe even more."

The grief in her voice broke his heart. He pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair that had once been healthy and dark, but was becoming gray now thanks to her terrible standards of living.

"Can I call you Harry?" she muttered in his shirt.

"Of course. Can I say Bellatrix to you? Mrs. Lestrange sounds a bit awkward."

"Just call me Bella. Or Mrs. Black if you want to be formal. I don't want to be associated with the Lestrange's. Neither with the Blacks, actually. Bella is the only thing that will do."

"This is absurd, isn't it?"

"Thanks for pointing me out, I hadn't noticed myself," Bellatrix replied, smiling a little bit.

"We are supposed to hate each other, to kill each other… and here we are, talking, and…"

"Being nice to each other," Bella added. "It's absurd, but in a good way. A very good way."

She shivered from the cold. He took the thin Cloak from them and summoned her clothes which he repaired with his wand. He helped her to get dressed.

"Why are those scars only on your back?" he asked during the process.

"The Dark Lord doesn't like a woman with scars on places on her body where he can see them while… well, you know."

"You slept with Voldmemort?!"

"I didn't sleep with the Dark Lord. He fucks me. There's a difference."

"Just like I did."

"No. We fucked together. It was not only you. That's another difference. Harry, I wonder… how can you ever beat him, when you are so innocent?"

"I don't think knowing the exact differences between sleeping with, making love, fucking together and being fucked will help me kill Voldemort."

"I didn't mean that, but…"

Despite the situation she giggled, causing Harry to laugh as well.

"Harry… just make sure you destroy him. That's the only thing that will help," she said when they finally stopped laughing.

"I don't want to be rude, Bella, but if you can come close to him, and you hate him so much, why don't you just…"

"Why I don't just kill him? Because it's quite hard to kill someone if your wand is taken from you, you are chained to the wall and you are being tortured and fucked at the same time."

"That's sick," Harry muttered in disbelief. "Does he really…"

"He knows his followers hate him," Bellatrix said, ignoring his implicit question. "He is extremely careful and makes sure no one can do him any harm. Despite everything he's a very powerful wizard, even more talented than they let you believe."

Her shoulders tensed up and he could almost feel the stress in her body.

"Are you always so nervous?" he asked.

"I always have to be vigilant. I can't afford to relax."

"Yes, you can. Right now, for example…"

He started to massage her shoulders and neck. She leant back against him, closing her eyes, and sighed both contently and warily.

"Despite your age you are the only real man I ever had the pleasure of meeting," she said. "You don't have any reason to be kind. Not after what I did to.. my cousin."

"But if you hate it to be a Death Eater, then why…"

"Like I said before, it's personal. It had nothing to do with the Dark Lord, but with some unfinished business. He did something to me long ago… we knew this day would come… maybe you'll know once. But not now. I could've killed Nymphodora, but I didn't. That's the only proof I can offer you to persuade you I didn't kill Sirius in the Dark Lord's service, nor for my own pleasure."

The answer didn't satisfy him, but it was enough for the time being. Somehow he really cared for this woman, and he realized that there were two sides of the story: not only Sirius'.

Far away Lupin shouted Harry's name, but again he didn't reply.

"They are looking for you," Bellatrix said. "Are you going to hand me over to them?"

The tension in her body was back within a few seconds.

"No. I won't."

"Thanks," was all she said, but he could hear the relief and gratefulness in her voice.

"I should run, then."

"Yes," Harry said, but neither of them moved.

Harry was completely focused on Bella's hair, that felt so soft and silky when he touched it, despite the way it looked. It almost seemed to heal under his attention, just like she did.

"Why do you like me, Harry?" she asked suddenly.

"I never said I like you," he replied, a bit shocked by the question because it made him realize how much he actually liked her.

"I know you do," she whispered. "Otherwise you would have hand me over to the others. Or you would've killed me… that would've been more likely."

"I just couldn't do that. I couldn't have dealt with the guilt if I would've caused you any more harm, no matter what kind. They aren't Death Eaters, but they are very angry and will probably hurt you because of what you did."

"And you?"

"I'm not angry. I'm just sad."

She sighed apologizing.

"Do you know what you are going to do… after this mess is over, I mean?"

"I'll go back to school."

"And what about the Dark Lord?"

"I'll try to find a way to… you know."

"If you ever need some help… I think there's no one who knows as much about him as I do. It's not really much, but…"

"What will you do?"

"I don't know. But there's one thing I'm sure of. I won't return to the Dark Lord."

"He'll go after you, and… he'll kill you," Harry said horrified.

"Not if he can't find me."

"He will."

"I'm afraid of that, yes. But he can't hurt me more than he did already. All he can do is kill me… and that won't be that bad. You know, he always told us that Dumbledore and Harry Potter were even more cruel. They were the real threat to the world. How I ever could believe that… maybe I just wanted it to be true. It made my own life a little better. Now I realize that it was one big lie. The world would be a better place without the master I served almost my entire life… better without me. I shouldn't have joined. It's my own fault. He promised attention and respect, power, richness… I was so naive."

Never Harry had expected to hear a Death Eater talk like this; a server of the Dark Lord who said aloud she regretted being in his service. It made clear to Harry how it could be that Voldemort had so many followers: he lured them in to his power with empty promises.

"I don't want him to find you," he said.

She took his hand and just held it, thus telling them how much she needed his support.

"You must run, Bella. You must run and never look back."

"He'll find me," she said, sounding scared for the first time. "I know too much."

Lupin shouted again Harry's name; he was much nearer this time.

"Maybe they'll catch me, and…"

"No, they won't. Bella, I just thought of something. What if I tell them you are dead? Then both the Order and the Death Eaters won't go looking for you."

"If you tell them… that you killed me…"

"But the body… they won't believe you if they won't find your body…"

"The veil…" she muttered. "You blasted me through the veil. The ultimate revenge… and the body disappeared… but no one will doubt your story. If I Disapparate, and you run to the Death Chamber… it's close to this room, I studied the blue prints before I went here."

"Voldemort will miss his only smart servant," Harry said.

She returned his smile a bit reluctant.

"Well, I have my wand and clothes. I should go."

"Yeah. Don't look back, Bella. Try to find a new life. Away from this all. Somehow I can imagine you in a little cottage by the sea."

"I don't think so. I never thought there'd actually be an 'after'. I'll try to escape first. Let's see what will happen if I can manage to keep living."

"Do you need anything? Gold, clothes, food…"

"Luckily the associates of the Dark Lord will be so surprised by my sudden disappearance that they probably won't notice for quite some time if I empty the complete vault of the Lestrange's at Gringrotts."

"So they will not only miss their only smart person, but a lot of their gold as well."

"Yeah… well it's the least they can do for me after all those years of… well. I don't want to think about it anymore. The thing I'm actually worrying about… Harry, will we ever see each other again?"

"I honestly don't know," he replied. "Would you want to?"

"I think so. Maybe when all this is over, when the Dark Lord is gone… I need to be sure I won't lead them to you accidentally, so I guess somehow remaining in touch with you will be hard, although I would want to."

"I know."

For a few seconds there was an awkward silence; neither of them could think of a proper way to say goodbye, not knowing for how long the departure would be. Finally Bellatrix hugged Harry tightly.

"Thanks for what you've done for me. Don't worry about what happened before. And I want you to say that maybe I am… slightly sorry for what I did to your godfather. I hope you can deal with the loss."

Tears appeared in his eyes again, but he blinked them away stubbornly.

"I want you to have this," she said, handing him her necklace. "It was a gift from Rodolphus. I won't need it, never wanted it. You can use it as an evidence for my… tragic decease."

He nodded and took the necklace from her slightly trembling hand.

"I hope you'll escape and will survive. To help you achieving that, I want to give you something as well."

Her eyes widened when he offered her his Invisibility Cloak.

"No, I can not take that," she objected. "I can't."

"I want you to have it," he persuaded her. "You can send it back later, when you are sure you are safe."

"Okay, if you insist…"

She took the Cloak while taking a deep breath.

"This is it, right?"

"This is it."

"Thanks again," she said. "Thanks so much, for everything."

"And you… thanks for understanding me, and listening to me. And just… making me understand you and Death Eaters and Voldemort. And not blaming me for…"

They finally let each other go, immediately missing the warmth and comfort they had shared.

Bellatrix turned around after smiling sadly to him once more. It wasn't enough. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. She didn't seem surprised at all.

"I was hoping you'd do that," she said before she leant towards him and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

Reassured by the fact she accepted him, he deepened the kiss and opened his lips for hers. For almost one glorious minute the world didn't exist anymore. Then Mad Eye Moody's voice was heard shouting for Harry in the next room. When Harry opened his eyes again, Bellatrix had Disapparated already. Harry ran back to the room with the veil, shouting his name every few steps.

Lupin was the first he ran into.

"Harry! There you are!" He yelled relieved.

"I'm here," Harry said, trying to sound like he had a very bad time.

"We were very concerned! Harry… what happened? Are you alright?"

Harry nodded to his former teacher. Harry looked horrible, but of course it was not because of what Lupin thought.

"Where's Bellatrix?"

"She's dead," Harry said evenly, while showing the necklace to Lupin and the other adults who joined them.

"What happened?" Kingsley asked in his deep voice.

"We were fighting. She kept firing killing curses at me, and I thought there was only one way for me to defeat her. I hid myself, and crept towards her when her back was towards me; she tried to lure me out of my hiding place. I tried to strangle her, but the necklace broke. She couldn't talk for a few seconds, so she couldn't defend herself with her wand, and I stunned her. It wouldn't have caused her much harm, but… I blasted her through the veil. It was an accident, but… I killed her."

"You what?" they asked, all in shock.

For a moment he was afraid he had said 'I kissed her'; but then they certainly would have reacted in a different way.

"I killed her… like I said it wasn't my intention, but she fell behind the veil."

After another moment of shock and disbelief, everybody was elated about the apparent decese of one of the most infamous Death Eaters. Almost no one wondered how Harry could've successfully dueled with her for such a long time; according to his raised eyebrows, only Dumbledore seemed to doubt the story.

The joyfulness however was gone after a few seconds, it was replaced by an immense grief when they realized again that they had lost someone as well.

Vaguely Harry noticed how they led him to his friends, who tried to comfort him. He didn't really notice however: he still felt Bellatrix' lips on his.

He had lost his godfather, but he had found someone as well. While trying to think what exactly, he put Bellatrix' necklace around his neck. One thing he was sure of: he would wear it for a very long time, no matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

One month later Harry was having breakfast with Hermione and Ron in the Burrow, where they spend the last weeks of the holiday. He couldn't relax, though. He had been thinking about Bellatrix most of the time, even if he didn't want to. He wondered where she was, if she was still alive, if she was happy now, and so on. They hadn't spoken to each other since their meeting a few weeks ago. Harry regretted that a lot, since he missed her in a strangely intense way. In the middle of the night he would wake up, sweating and breathing heavily, thinking about her, and during the days he found himself daydreaming about her. 

Hermione and Ron, and all the other Weasleys, definitely noticed that something was going on, but they couldn't put their finger on it. 'Puberty' was what Mrs. Weasley called it, but Ron and especially Hermione thought it was a bit odd he was behaving so absentmindedly. He had told them, only a day after the fight in the Department of Mysteries, that he had great difficulties coping with Sirius death and that this was the reason of his behavior. It wasn't a complete lie: he hardly could think about Bellatrix without being reminded of Sirius. He missed his godfather every day, but losing the man who he had known for only such a short amount of time wasn't as hard as he had expected when life continued, though it never was easy. Bellatrix however had become a part of his being that he couldn't deny. The memory of her burned like a fire in his heart, and there were not much things he wanted more than seeing her again. However, he was quite sure that wouldn't happen. Officially she was dead since he had stated so. 'Harry Potter kills Bellatrix Lestrange' was the main subject of the Daily Prophet for weeks; no one paid attention to the small article a few days later in which was written about a burglary at Gringotts: the entire content of the Lestrange's vault had been stolen, which was rather strange because there wasn't a single vault in the bank that was as much protected as that one.

Another few days later there was news that did get attention: Rodolphus Lestrange was killed in his own house. The body was found by Aurors who had received a message from an anonymous person who claimed to have witnessed the murder. If they wouldn't have been advised to go there, they would probably have never known about the Death Eater's decease.

Before the wizarding community had completely realized that both Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange had died within a week, there was more shocking news: another Lestrange was murdered. This time the victim was Rabastan Lestrange, brother of Rodolphus and brother-in-law of Bellatrix Lestrange. Again Aurors got a message shortly after the murder, thus being able to go to the crime scene and identify the body before Death Eaters had the change to clear the place themselves and act like nothing had happened.

The Daily Prophet was speculating wildly about both the identity of the murderer and the person who could be responsible for the deaths, and whether they were one and the same person or not.

Harry was probably the only one who understood exactly what was going on; all the others, including the Minister of Magic, kept speculating about the identity of the mysterious Death Eater murderer that terrorized the servants of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

So Bellatrix wasn't only still alive, but looking for vengeance as well, and trying to find peace of mind by killing the persons who had done the most horrible things in Voldemort's name, both to her and to others.

That was good news, but it meant she was in great danger as well. Voldemort wouldn't be fooled by an Invisibility Cloak and although Bellatrix Lestrange was a very powerful witch, she couldn't defend herself against Voldemort.

Harry both admired and cursed her for her desire to kill the men who had ruined her life. It was a very brave and noble thing to do, but she put herself in great danger. If she would get caught she would be tortured in the most horrible ways before she would be killed.

She never contacted him, so the only way for Harry to be sure she was still alive, was if he read the headlines in the Daily Prophet about the mysterious murderer who had killed again. When the Lestranges were dead, Greyback was next. How she managed to do that Harry had no idea, but it meant a lot to the wizarding world. Now so much followers of You-Know-Who were killed, people felt like the most infamous Death Eaters weren't as untouchable as they thought - no matter who the actual killer was, since they didn't know.

When it seemed impossible for the madness to increase even more, there was another victim: Lucius Malfoy. He was murdered and discovered by Aurors the same way as the others. And no matter how hard the wizarding world tried, they couldn't find nor the murder nor an explanation.

However, how dangerous the Death Eaters could be, they weren't the real problem. Voldemort was the one where everything was about in the end. And no matter how much of his servants were murdered, it would be useless if Voldemort wouldn't be dead too. Harry tried to find a way to finish him, maybe with Bellatrix' help, but he couldn't think of anything. The thought of Voldemort being alive, manipulating and hurting and killing his enemies, innocent people and his own followers, was almost unbearable. Yet that wasn't what he thought about most. His greatest concern was Bellatrix.

Every new day seemed to pass by even slower than the previous one. No matter how Hermione and Run tried to cheer him up, everything was dull and boring, every minute was as depressing as the previous or next was. Sirius and Bellatrix seemed to be dueling in his head for his attention. When he thought about Sirius he still felt very sad, but whenever he read something about Bellatrix or someone mentioned her name, his heart skipped a beat with joy. Sirius was always present in his heart and in his head, but after a while he faded to the background, and Harry figured out what was the reason of that, of the strange things he felt for Bellatrix, and his daydreaming, and all the other changes of his behavior: he was in love with her.

It was wrong, very wrong. She had killed his godfather, she was his enemy, and she was much older. The thought of being in love with her had scared him so much for a few days, that he had tried to ignore the feeling, but the more he tried, the less it worked. And when he realized he probably would never see her again, it was a bit easier. No one would ever know about it, not even Bellatrix herself, so no one would ever blame him for his strange feelings towards her.

But still, if they would ever meet again, if the war would end, if they would both survive it…

"Harry?"

He looked around in surprise, only realizing after a few seconds he was still at the dinner table in the Burrow instead of being with Bellatrix on a deserted beach while… he banned the thought away from his head, trying to act as nothing had happened.

"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley said again. "I asked you a question."

"Sorry, I missed it. What did you say?"

"I asked if you are alright."

"Yes, I am. Why do you think I'm not?"

"Well, you look pale, you don't realize at all what's happening around you – Ron and Hermione have been discussing Quidditch for minutes but you didn't even listen – and you haven't eaten anything: those sausages you usually like so much are still all on your board."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, I'll eat them now."

"Don't be silly, Harry. Don't eat them if you aren't hungry. But please, try to have some fun today. You shouldn't grief for Sirius or worry about Voldemort too much. That's not good for you. Try to relax a little."

"I will, Mrs. Weasley."

She left the room to call Fred and George who where still in their beds; Harry, Hermione and Ron where the only one left in the usually crowded kitchen.

The Daily Prophet was delivered by an owl that moment. Hermione started to read it as soon as Ron had released it from his owl's leg.

"Is there anything new in it?" Harry asked while trying to sound interested and not stressed at the same time.

"Not much. You are mentioned though. And a picture of that bitch. Today it's a month ago, you know."

Before Hermione fully had pronounced the word 'bitch', he snatched the Prophet out of her hands and stared at Bellatrix' picture. Like always when he did so, the temperature seemed to rise quickly and his heart beat faster. While pretending to read the article he scrutinized the picture and toyed with the necklace he was still wearing. The photograph was one that was taken when she was in Azkaban. She looked absolutely horrible on it, but in her eyes was a light that even the Dementors couldn't kill, a brightness that had put his heart on fire.

He wanted to give the paper back to Hermione, not wanting to raise suspicion, but decided not to when he saw Ron staring at the necklace.

"I've thought it before," Ron said, "but that necklace looks so familiar. I'm sure I've seen it before…"

Harry fold the paper in such a way his two friends couldn't see the picture on the front page; he was sure Bellatrix was wearing the necklace on the photograph.

"It was a present," he said.

"From who?" Hermione asked now. "I think Ron is right. I have seen it somewhere… maybe in a book or something…"

Harry slowly moved the paper out of view now she was looking at him instead of the table, wondering how long it would take before she would figure out what really was going on. She was a smart girl – but a rational one. And what was happening to him, had nothing to do with reason or logic.

"Harry… don't tell me you're still in love with that stupid Cho."

He had to blink a few times before he understood what she was talking about. Cho Chang. He almost laughed at the thought he had once a crush on her.

Luckily Hedwig flew into the kitchen at that moment, so he could ignore Hermione's piercing gaze. His owl sat down on the table, and there was a blank envelope and a package on its leg. Impatiently he untied the package and the letter. The writing on it looked unfamiliar, but when he saw the letter was signed with 'B.B.', the beat is heart skipped told him that it was Bellatrix'. He wanted to read it immediately, but when he saw the expectant looks from Ron and Hermione he excused himself and hurried to the room he shared with Ron, leaving them with raised eyebrows.

He let himself fall on his bed and read the letter.

_Dear Harry, I know you told me not to look back and I tried to, but like you probably know by now there were a few things I had to take care of before I really could leave my previous life behind. I have left this part of the country, but I can't tell you were in case someone who isn't you reads this. I think I am safe now. Don't worry about me. BB. P.S. Here is your Cloak. It has been very useful._

He inspected the note, expecting another message. But the letter was all there was. He read the short message again and again. Was that all she had to say? It disappointed him. Of course he was very relieved to read that she was alright and he understood that she couldn't tell him where she was, but he had expected something more. A bit more personal information about herself, some news about her new life…

"Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said while hiding the package with the Cloak and putting Bellatrix' note in his pocket.

"There is here someone who wants to see you," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I'm coming."

He left the bedroom when he was sure both the package and the letter were safe in his pocket. He walked downstairs, followed by Mrs. Weasley who seemed to be a bit nervous.

In the kitchen of the Burrow was someone who Harry had never expected to see there: Dumbledore.

"Professor?" Harry asked surprised.

"Yes, it's me," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure you wonder why I am here and I'll certainly answer that question later, but at first I must apologize to Molly for visiting so suddenly."

"It's no problem, professor," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'm sure there was a good reason for it, and it doesn't bother me at all anyway. The more the merrier, isn't it?"

"That's certainly true, but I'm afraid I won't stay long. Actually I'll leave immediately after I'd spoken to Harry."

Harry looked up surprised when he heard his name: he never talked directly to Dumbledore in the holidays and he wondered what the reason for it could be.

"I wish to speak to Harry in private. The walls here seem to have ears and I want to be sure there is no one except for Harry and me to know the content of our conversation."

He glanced to Fred and George who tried to look like they didn't plan to use Extendable Ears.

"Well, Harry, if you would like to come with me? It won't take very long, I want to clarify some issues regarding the happenings in the Department of Mysteries."

Harry followed Dumbledore who walked outside the Burrow, somehow knowing this couldn't be good. They left the garden, and walked away from the house.

"How are you, Harry?" Dumbledore finally said.

"I'm fine, I think," he replied.

"Is that really so?" his Headmaster asked. "Hermione and Ron told me you've been behaving strangely since a few weeks, and we think it has to do with something that happened in the Department of Mysteries. Don't get me wrong, I think you have handled the sudden decease of your godfather very well, but although your friends seem to doubt it, I think there is another reason for your absentmindedness, though I dare not to speculate about it. And that's why I have come to visit you today. Harry… is there something you want to tell me?"

Harry looked to his Headmaster, not knowing what he should do. It was hard not to talk to anybody about what really had happened, and there was no one he trusted as much as Dumbledore. But on the other side, Bellatrix was safe now. She had paid for the horrible actions she had committed in the past, she probably was free for the first time in her life. He couldn't take that from her. If he told Dumbledore the truth, the Headmaster would know Bellatrix Lestrange was still alive. Harry knew Dumbledore well enough to know that he would contact her, maybe try to persuade her to join the Order of the Phoenix, since she knew so much of the Death Eaters and Voldemort, and had had access to so much valuable information. And no matter how careful they would be, others would find out. And thus sooner or later Death Eaters or Voldemort himself would come after her, and the endless hell her life had been until a few weeks ago, would start again.

"Ehm, professor…" Harry finally said. "I don't know how to say this, but there is something I have to admit. It's about Bellatrix Lestrange."

Dumbledore nodded. "I had expected that in a way… please continue."

"Well... please don't blame me professor, I've been thinking about if for a long time – if I wanted to say it, how and when… I have to talk to someone about it, and I think you're the right person to tell what really happened. I… I lied to you, professor."

"I presumed that for quite some time; actually from the moment you told us you had murdered Bellatrix Lestrange. There was something in your eyes that told me their had happened something except for that you had blasted her through the veil, thus killing her. I wanted the decision to tell the truth to be yours. You can tell me, Harry. Your secret is safe with me."

"About the killing… what really happened that night..."

The boy's brown and the old man's blue eyes met, and Harry knew this was the right moment.

"Professor," he said while taking a deep breath. "I didn't kill her.. accidentally. I did it on purpose. I… I couldn't control myself anymore. I was so angry, I wanted to do the same to her as she had one to Sirius. When I ran out of the Death Chamber, I followed her further inside the Department of Mysteries, and somewhere in a dimly lit room we dueled.

I tried to Stupefy her, but she deflected my spell and then she used the Cruciatus curse against me. It was like…"

Harry had problems describing the effects of the curse in detail, since he had never actually experienced it. Dumbledore however misunderstood his reluctance for painful memories.

"I understand what you want to say, Harry. Please don't remember those feelings, just try to tell in general what happened."

"Well… it hurt so much, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't fight it, although I tried. I gave up. And she… she was laughing, like it was one big joke. She lifted the curse, and she was cheering… she shouted that she had captured me, that she would bring me to Voldemort, that she would be rewarded. Apparently she thought that I was unconscious, because she didn't pay attention to me anymore. When the pain was gone, my body slowly recovered. I could move my arms again when I moved them a little every time. Because it was dark in the room she couldn't see what I was doing. She was standing in the doorway, maybe looking for other Death Eaters, and her back was facing me most of the time. I managed to get up and find my wand, which was lying a few yards away from me. And then…I used the Avada Kedavra curse to kill her."

He stared to the ground, not knowing for sure whether he wanted Dumbledore to buy his lie or not.

"That explains a lot," his Headmaster said.

"How do you mean?"

"You had such haunted look in your eyes. You were distracted, couldn't really focus, and you looked somehow like you had become an adult within one hour… killing a human being can have serious consequences for the murderer. It doesn't get better, unless you learn to deal with it. And that won't happen when you never talk about this. I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell you this."

Harry had never expected such a friendly reply, and felt worse about his lie.

"Professor… aren't you angry?"

"No, don't worry Harry. I'm not angry… I understand why you haven't told the truth before. I think it impacted you so much that you simply couldn't. But I'd like to know how you felt afterwards."

"I thought I would've felt better, because I had killed Sirius' murderer… but I didn't feel better at all. He was still gone, and now I was a killer myself. That was my first thought. And then I realized I couldn't tell anybody what I had done… not yet. I wanted to erase it from my memory, like it had never happened. I had to get rid of the body… I used the Levitation Charm to transport her body back to the Death Chamber, and then I 'blasted' her corpse through the veil. To make sure no one would ever found out that I had… murdered her."

"And that necklace?"

Harry looked up in surprise.

"Come come Harry, do I look that stupid? You might fool your friends, but not me."

Harry blushed, again for another reason than Dumbledore thought.

"I stole it from her. I wanted to keep it… like a strange kind of memory. I started wearing it only a few days ago. I couldn't stand it at first, but now it's a few weeks ago I get used to the idea, and I want to wear it so it reminds me of what I have done, how wrong it was, and that I must never do something like that again."

"Will you ever tell Ron and Hermione what you just told me?"

"I don't know. I don't think they can understand… maybe I'll tell them later, but not for the time being."

"I think that is the best way, Harry."

Dumbledore stopped on the middle of the road.

"This is what I wanted you to ask. I wanted to be sure you were alright. Though you are still shocked by it, I think you handle it well."

"Was that all you wanted to say?" Harry asked a bit nervously, still surprised by Dumbledores' lack of reaction.

"That was all what I wanted to say. If there is anything you want to talk about, this is your chance."

For a few seconds Harry couldn't think of anything, but he wanted to know more about Bellatrix. Most of her life was a complete mystery to him, after all.

"I have thought Bellatrix a lot… and now I'm able to live with the fact that I have killed her… I know nothing about her. I'd like to know how she was at Hogwarts. Was she already crazy and dark like she was when she was Voldemort's servant, or was she… normal?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly.

"You can say a lot of things about Bellatrix Black, but not that she was 'normal'. Since her first year she had an unhealthy interest for the Dark Arts, although that has probably something to do with her family. She is born in one of the most dark wizarding families that has ever been, and then I don't mean that their last name was Black.

She was a clever little witch, maybe too clever for her own good. She learned quickly, and when she was capable of using the normal spells and had read all the basic books, she wanted to learn more. I blame myself a little… I recognized her talent but didn't let her learn more than her normal education required. I was afraid she would use the extra knowledge later in a wrong way, but now I wonder how it would've been if she would have learned extra knowledge. It would have kept her away from the other Slytherin, and she wouldn't have had to study secretly in the Restricted Section of the library… although the things she read there at her young age caused less damage than all her twisted fellow students who watched all her steps."

"'Watched all her steps?'"

"Didn't you know? Bellatrix was known for her almost unnaturally beautiful, which didn't go by unnoticed by the other students. Girls hated her for it, boys worshipped her – and not only those from her own house. However, she didn't pay a lot of attention to it; she was a very industrious girl who liked to study. Sometimes Ms. Granger reminds me of her… although Ms. Granger has the luck to have friends who care for her, she isn't forced by her parents to prepare herself for a high position in the pureblood community and she isn't pursued by boys all the time. You didn't expect that, I think?"

Harry was too dumbfounded to speak. He had thought that Bellatrix was a dumb and popular student, like about all the female Slytherins nowadays were.

"Did you really consider giving her extra lessons?"

"Well, not personally by me, but I think I should've arranged something for her, maybe that I could've persuade professor Slughorn to teach her more than the regular potions… potions wasn't her favorite subject, but she was very good at it none the less. If Severus Snape wouldn't have been at school as well, she would've been the best. But it is useless to speculate about what would've happened if we would've done things in the past different; we can't change it anymore. It's a pity she chose to serve Voldemort, for she had the power to do wonderful things. Now she performed great, but horrible magic.

I hope you are satisfied with this information, because I have to go back to Hogwarts soon."

Harry was glad he knew of this unknown side of Bellatrix now, but there was one thing he wanted to know. Maybe Dumbledore would know something about that, but he couldn't ask it directly.

"There is one thing I'm curious about… Voldemort said that the Lestranges always have been his most loyal followers, and I wondered… did Bellatrix marry Rodolphus Lestrange because he was his follower? Because he was a pureblood? Just because of that? It seems hard to imagine, but people always say she did."

"Actually, I'm not sure why you want to know this or how this could matter to you, Harry."

"I don't really want to know," he lied, "but I was just curious about some basic things about her… somehow I always want to think she was bad, but my heart kept telling me there was a reason she became who she was, and that way I was fooling myself by thinking she deserved it. And probably she did, but maybe she didn't. I just would like to know the truth, so I can come to terms with it."

"Usually I don't talk about the private lives of my students with other students," Dumbledore answered lost in thought, "but seeing the circumstances I think I can make an exception. There is nothing which can justify the fact she killed Sirius, but in her case there is something you might should know. She married Rodolphus Lestrange only after she just left Hogwarts. She didn't love him, and she was forced by her parents, but probably not because of the reasons you can think of. Yes, he was a pureblood and would soon be a follower of Voldemort, but there was a different reason her parents forced her to marry him. She was pregnant."

"Pregnant?! I never knew she carried Rodolphus' child!"

Dumbledore coughed discretely.

"Well… they never were sure about it. She wasn't sure whether the child was his, his brother's, or maybe someone else's."

Dumbledore's answer shocked and disappointed him deeply. She had made told him she had sexual contacts with a lot of man, but had made him believe she didn't want to. What Dumbledore told him, suggested strongly that she had been lying to him and was a complete slut after all.

Anger roared with him. How could she? After all she had done, after what he had done to make sure she would be alright… he got one small and impersonal message, and the suggestion that she had been lying to him.

Dumbledore noticed the anger.

"You have every right to judge her, but wait until I finished my story, since it isn't over yet. I have reasons to believe not only her pregnancy was unwanted, but the conceiving of the child as well.

One night I received a message that one of the students was missing. All the teachers, the prefects and the Head Boy and Girl were looking for her.

After a few hours they found her; somewhere in a dungeon where she was chained to the wall with torn clothes. She claimed to be raped by the Lestrange brothers and a third person who she couldn't recognize – she said it could've been Lucius Malfoy. Of course I've spoken to them immediately, but they denied it. They couldn't explain how it could be she was chained in that dungeon, but they assured me they had nothing to do with it; just like Lucius Malfoy. It was a few weeks before the end of the school year, and since they all left Hogwarts soon after, it wasn't the responsibility of the school anymore to find out what had really happened. We had contacted the parents of course, but none of them believed Bellatrix – or they didn't want to. That seemed to be the last development, but then they found out she was pregnant, and although her parents still didn't believe her innocence, they couldn't deny what was happened anymore. Whether it was her own fault or not, she was pregnant, and especially in those days it was a scandal if a pureblood girl was with a child without being married. She needed to wed before she couldn't hide her pregnancy anymore. The Lestrange boys were the only ones who where suitable, since they were the only available pureblood teenagers. Both her and his parents decided that she would marry the oldest, Rodolphus. No matter what she did to prevent it, she was forced to marry him.

However, all was in vain. A few months after the wedding she had a miscarriage. Since she had left Hogwarts, I don't know what happened after that… except for the fact they remained together, became Death Eaters and were locked up in Azkaban."

Harry stared to the ground in disbelief. So what she had said was true after all… and maybe even worse, because he never could have thought those horrible things had happened when she was just a teenager, only two years older than he was now.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Harry replied quickly. "I am shocked by it… somehow I just thought she was…"

"… bad like she was the majority of her life?"

"Yes."

"Human behavior is very complex, but I think that she would've made other choices in her life – less dark, at least – if she wouldn't have been confronted with so much pain and sorrow in her young years."

"You said that it wasn't sure whether she was… raped by those boys, but you speak like you believe her. Do you think that it was real, that she was telling the truth?"

"I don't know happened, except for what she told me and the way she did that. And the way she behaved in my office that night, told me that she wasn't lying."

So it was real after all. She was raped, and a few weeks later she was forced to marry one of those boys. And he had done the same to her… or at least he thought. One thing that Bellatrix had said to him, kept nagging in his head. _"The Dark Lord, my husband, his brother… you were nice to me, compared to what they did to me."_

"Well Harry, I hope this gave you a more detailed vision of Bellatrix. I don't really see how this has anything to do with Sirius' death, but I think you have the right to know. However, this conversation contained so much personal information that it's better if you forget we ever talked about it."

Harry nodded.

"Perfect. Then I'll return to Hogwarts now. I hope to find out more information about Voldemort and his plans, and that 'mysterious murderer' where the Daily Prophet likes to write nonsense about."

Harry flinched but Dumbledore didn't notice, he continued talking already like the murderer of the Death Eaters was some fairy tale that was made up by the paper.

"Voldemort hasn't done a lot of damage last weeks, I think he is planning something… I'll try to find out what, and we'll talk about that later. I'll share with you everything I find out about him. It isn't much, but maybe it'll be useful once. But for now you need to rest, and try to relax a bit. School is over, after all. If there is something you want to know or if there happens something that bothers you, please contact me."

"I will, professor," Harry said.

"Well, that was it for now. Don't worry too much about Voldemort, and try to spend some more time with Hermione and Ron. I understand you don't want too much company now you're grieving because of Sirius' death, but they might be able to cheer you up a bit. They simply want to help you, Harry."

"I know. I just wanted to be alone, to… think. I'll try to socialize more when I fell less sad."

"Yes, that's an excellent idea. You really should try, you'll feel better. I really have to go now, but I might visit the coming weeks. Enjoy your holiday!"

Harry stepped back from Dumbledore, and after one more goodbye the Headmaster disapparated.

Harry slowly walked back to the Burrow. Maybe it was because of the sun, which was shining with all its power, or the singing birds, but he felt a bit more cheerful.

He couldn't really explain it, but somehow he felt better after the conversation despite the fact he had lied to protect Bellatrix. He knew the truth about her – at least what Dumbledore thought the truth was. The longing for her was undeniable, just as the shame was. He had treaded her as badly as the men she despised so much had done, and although she had tried to persuade him not to hate himself for it, he did.

He entered the garden of the Burrow, and when he saw Ron, Hermione and Ginny playing Quidditch, he felt happy for the first time since the day that Sirius had died and he had met Bellatrix.

He was sure he would never see them again. Sirius was in another world now, and although Bellatrix seemed to be strangely reborn that day, she was forced to go into hiding.

He missed them both for very different reasons, but he knew the feeling would decrease and the time would heal the wounds their departures had caused.

"Hey Harry, do you wanna join?" Ron shouted to Harry.

To his surprise he actually was in the mood again to play his favorite game.

"I'll get my broom," he yelled back. "We'll defeat the girls, won't we, Ron?"

Ron couldn't hide his surprise, but his disbelief was quickly replaced with an enthusiastic smile.

"Of course we'll win. Hurry, I can't wait!"

Harry ran inside the house to get his Firebolt. He threw the package with his Invisibility Cloak which he was still wearing in his pocket on his bed, and hid Bellatrix' message underneath his pillow after he had read it quickly once more.

When he was back in the garden minutes later and flew through the air on his broom, he felt strangely reborn himself too.

It was a holiday indeed. It was time to let the past rest.

* * *

_To be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and slowly Harry's life became how it had been before Sirius was killed and he had met Bellatrix. Every day it was a little easier to concentrate on his actual life, and at the end of the holiday it almost like was nothing special had happened at the end of the previous school year. Almost, for Bellatrix was still in his mind. He missed her, sometimes it was almost too hard not to know how she was or just to talk to her, but the thought that "it is better like this" persuaded him to leave the past alone. And it was him who had told her not to look back after all; so he shouldn't do that himself either.

He finished the last two years of Hogwarts. It was a bit odd after all the adventures and dangers from the previous years, but during the last part of his education he didn't have to face any kind of threat. Not directly, anyway.

Things were changing. Everybody could feel it. Although Voldemort didn't seem to do anything, his presence could be felt. He had become very careful after so much of his most loyal servants had been brutally murdered by someone whose identity he didn't know.

Severus Snape was still spying, but he had lost his place in Voldemort's inner circle. Although the Dark Lord wasn't entirely sure of it, he felt something strange about his potions specialist. He didn't trust him, but needed the potions only Snape could create, so he spared his life.

Thanks to Bellatrix' killings the Death Eaters had been less active for a while and seemed to have lost their cruelty and boldness. But when the killings stopped after Lucius Malfoy had been murdered, the Death Eaters increased in numbers at an almost unnatural speed. What was left of the pureblood community was almost literally fighting for a position in the Dark Lord's inner circle, or even a place outside the elite; making sure they were at the "winning side" was all they cared for. They were more than willing to prove their loyalty, which required killing of innocents. Muggles at first, and later half blood wizards too. All respectable wizards were afraid, but couldn't do anything against the large numbers of Death Eaters who basically could do whatever they want. Aurors did the best they could, but it was just impossible to stop them all.

People were afraid, very afraid, and expected Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, to do something about it, perhaps with Dumbledore's help. But he didn't, and because of that the boldness and cruelty of the Dark Lord's followers increased again.

Wizards didn't say it openly yet, but they felt disappointment at the lack of success from their 'hero', and started to doubt the changes he had against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They realized they had no idea what the boy was up to now he had graduated from Hogwarts, or even where he was. The scared wizards made up the most ridiculous stories about Harry's whereabouts, hoping to reassure themselves. They said he was looking for special killing herbs in Africa, that he was in Russia to trace Voldemort, and so on.

But Harry Potter was still at Hogwarts; he had never left it, in fact. It was the safest place for him to be, and most of the knowledge he still needed to gain, could be learned at that ancient place.

He spent more time in the library than he had ever done when he was still an official student. Studying wasn't the only thing he did: every week he continued the lessons with professor Dumbledore to speculate about the man who once had been Tom Riddle, hoping to find any hint of a way to defeat him. Every afternoon Harry practiced the most complicated spells in the Room of Requirement. Sometimes his former teachers would help him, but usually he was there on his own.

Harry had stopped reading the Daily Prophet. Not only the reports from the horrible crimes committed by Death Eaters, but also the suggestions that Harry Potter was incapable of defeating the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, heavily upset him. Not because those remarks were lies, like the stories Rita Skeeter had written a few years ago, but because there was some truth hidden in the articles. Because for the time being, Harry Potter _was_ incapable of killing Voldemort. Not because he lacked the skill or the power, or maybe even the basic wisdom to do so, but just because the Dark Lord was untraceable.

Of course neither Harry nor Dumbledore would ever say this aloud: it would be almost the same as telling the wizarding world the war against Voldemort was a lost cause. And thus Harry hid at Hogwarts, and every day he searched with more desperateness to find a way to kill, weaken, or even find Voldemort. Harry was very aware of the terrible things Voldemort was probably preparing, and how many lives he would take; but the main motive what Harry personally kept going, was revenge. Voldemort had killed his parents, murdered countless of innocent wizards and Muggles, and inflicted so much pain on Bellatrix.

Especially because of the first and last reason he kept studying and searching, and was focusing on finding an indirect way of defeating the Dark Lord, after Dumbledore had advised him to do so. But even the apparent infinite wisdom of his former Headmaster had its limitations, and Harry always felt a bit awkward in the presence of the man he respected so much: he still felt very guilty for lying so boldly to him, but at least, he told himself, Bellatrix was safe.

Usually Harry locked himself up in the room he lived now, which was located in an almost completely abandoned tower of the Hogwarts castle. Every morning he went to the Restricted Section from the library to take some books to his study, and returned them the same evening when he had finished scanning them for any spell, herb, curse or trick that might cause Voldemort any harm.

It had been like this for countless days, and every time if he thought he had found some usual information and he visited Dumbledore to formulate a new plan, there turned out to be something that made his idea impossible.

It was not that there was no one else to help him. Ron and Hermione visited him often. At first he had been very happy they hadn't forgotten him now they had their own jobs, but their suggestions where just the same silly ideas he had made up and considered useless a dozen times already; and they too suggested in a subtle way that people where restless and afraid, and that something had to be done before Voldemort could work on a next horrible plan.

He behaved less and less enthusiastic when they visited. His two friends interpreted this wrong. When they took Ginny with them to his place one day, he didn't understand at first what the reason for this was: she had always been a friend, a fellow Gryffindor, one of the Weasleys. But the obscure glances Ginny cast at him when she visited, made him feel uncomfortable and made him long for Bella somehow. Ginny didn't seem to notice, or maybe she did but thought it was something good, for she visited more and more often. Hermione and Ron, who were together for almost a year, didn't really react when he tried to talk with them about Ginny, or rather, asked them to persuade her not to visit him too often. Harry presumed that they actually hoped he would fall in love with Ginny, so he wouldn't be so obsessed anymore with studying and practicing. They never told him directly, but they still noticed the change in him since that day in the Department of Mysteries. They probably thought it had to do with Sirius' death, that this was the reason for all his effort, but they were wrong.

Studying prevented him from thinking about himself, and that was exactly what he needed. It made him forget about how there was no progress in his not existing plans to defeat Voldemort. It made him forget about the expectations, which, he started to believe, were unfounded. And it made him forget about Bellatrix. If he thought of her, it didn't matter that their meeting had been so long ago, the circumstances so far from perfect. The mysterious feelings he had when he thought of her didn't fade, not at all. Only when he kept his brains occupied all the time, his mind wouldn't wander to the her and thus be completely distracted from what he was supposed to do.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and other of his former friends felt the change within him, but couldn't bring him 'back', like they called it: they couldn't bring back the happy boy he once had been, no matter what they tried to cheer him up. Their presence started to annoy him, although he knew they were only bothering him for his own good. But how could he stand their unsubtle hints to make him love Ginny when he had lost his heart to a woman who was thrice her age, was supposed to be dead, lived in a self chosen banishment, and was a former member of the inner circle of his enemy?

Ginny, Hermione and Ron at last sensed Harry's reluctance and decided to leave him alone for "the time being", but in fact it was weeks, maybe even months ago, he had actually spoken to them. Harry realized he was completely isolated from his former life and from the rest of the world, and although he wasn't directly confronted with it, he just could imagine all those people wishing he would finally find a way. Or worse: dying because he was failing.

The thought of his apparent failure in defeating Voldemort and the worries about Bellatrix were enough to prevent him from properly concentrating, eating, and even sleeping. He felt weak and often woke up in the middle of the night because of nightmares he somehow forgot the moment he opened his eyes.

He did try to study the most secret and ancient magic, but his brains seemed to focus less and less every day. If Dumbledore speculated about Voldemort's plans, Harry's mind didn't hear the information and if Ginny asked him how he was doing when she had the courage to visit him once more, he lied by saying he was fine, while wishing she would leave soon. The only company he enjoyed was the one of Hedwig. His owl seemed to be the only one who never asked him about his progress or doubted the efficiency of his studying techniques.

He was slowly losing his hope, yet he kept telling himself there could be some useful information in the next book or in the net, or in the next.

---

One a certain morning Harry woke up because of an uncomfortable feeling in his back and arms. To his horror he realized he had fallen asleep on his desk. The book he had been reading in until 3 am, had functioned as some sort of pillow. Briefly he scanned the page on which he had fallen asleep. _Killing by loving_ was the title of the chapter. Harry smiled sarcastically, imagining how he could murder Voldemort by simply hugging him.

"Totally useless," he muttered while closing the book. "Why did I even get that book? And from the Restricted Section?"

He shrugged; he was too exhausted and sick of reading to worry about it. The fact he was talking to himself didn't cheer him up either. He stared out of the window without really seeing anything.

Before he surrendered himself to melancholy and slight despair, Hedwig appeared before the window and he opened it to let her in the room. A Daily Prophet was attached to her leg. He didn't want to read it; there would only be more misery and pain and bad news in it. The owl however wanted to be released from the burden. Harry sighed and took the paper from her leg, but the owl still didn't leave him alone.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, but Hedwig didn't stop.

"What?" His owl didn't look at him, which irritated Harry more, but then he saw what Hedwig was trying to point out to him: the date of the paper. He stared at it in shock. Sirius death, and thus meeting Bellatrix, was exactly two years ago.

"I miss them," he mumbled to the owl. "Both of them. I know I can't meet Sirius again, and I'm almost sure I'll never see Bellatrix again. No matter what happened to her in the past and no matter whether she lied to me about it or not. I tried to deny the feeling, but… I want to see her again. I _need_ to see her again. This studying isn't leading to anything. Voldemort is just untouchable. Hidden. If there wouldn't be all those horrible things happening, one would almost say he doesn't exist anymore. But he's out there, that's certain. And I just _can't_ do anything about it."

In a wave of rage he threw the book against the wall.

But the noise and damage it caused weren't satisfying enough – even demolishing the entire room wouldn't take away his frustrations. He repaired the broken book and looked to Hedwig again, who was still sitting on his desk and eyed him without blinking, like nothing had happened. The owl moved to the window, which was still opened, and remained standing there, like she was waiting for something to happen.

For the first time for what felt like ages, Harry actually looked outside instead of just staring into the distance. It was a beautiful day and the joyful talking and laughter from the students on the grounds of Hogwarts just reached his ears and made him feel again like the boy he had been only two years ago.

Hedwig looked emphatically outside, and Harry nodded slightly. He needed a break. He could stop worrying about Voldemort for a while, it wouldn't make a different. He left his small study and descended all those stairs on his way out.

Four minutes later he stepped outside. Immediately Hedwig flew down to him and kept circling around his head.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked again, wondering why his owl was behaving in such a strange way.

Impatiently he tried to chase Hedwig away so he could at least sit quietly on the grass instead of being bothered by the owl. However, she kept zooming around his head, trying to get his attention, and it reminded Harry of Ron's hyperactive owl.

"Stop it," he shouted at last, glad there weren't any students around at the moment, for he realized how bizarre the situation. He decided to ignore Hedwig and just to stare to the lake, while trying to empty his mind.

Much to Harry's relief the owl calmed down, and finally he relaxed slightly. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sun's warmth. He put of his robe, thus revealing a Muggle shirt and Bellatrix' necklace, which he never stopped wearing.

With one quick movement Hedwig managed to beak the chain of the pendant and managed to pull it loose

"Hey," Harry shouted, infuriated, wishing he would have stayed inside the castle and had never opened the window to let the owl enter his room. But he had, and now Hedwig flew away to sit down on a branch a few hundred yards away from him. Angrily Harry run towards the tree, only to look up in frustration to the owl which he could only reach by cursing her, and he didn't really want to go that far – yet. Hedwig looked at him intelligently with her eyes; the necklace dangled dangerously from her leg.

"Give it back!" Harry shouted, causing a few seconds years who just walked by to look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Hedwig, please, don't be like this," he added, trying to keep his voice down.

Finally the owl dropped Bellatrix' necklace, which he could catch just before it fell on the ground. He repaired the chain with his wand. Relieved Harry's fingers traced the line of the necklace, remembering how it was to caress the previous owner, before he put it again around his neck. Now the only real memory he had of Bellatrix was save again, he calmed down a bit and tried to think of an explanation for the uncharacteristic behavior of his clever owl.

Hedwig seemed to notice this somehow and flew down. She sat down on his shoulder and stretched her leg like Harry was about to attach a letter to it.

Harry eyes widened in shock and surprise when he realized what the owl might tried to point out.

"It can't be," he whispered, "or do you really know…"

Of course the owl didn't reply, but Harry knew enough when he stared into Hedwig's eyes.

"Of course," he muttered. "How can I've been so stupid… of course you know where she is, you brought me a letter from her all this time ago. If she hasn't moved… Why didn't you made it clear earlier that…"

His speech faltered when he inwardly answered his own question. How could Hedwig have known that he _wanted_ to see Bellatrix, when he had told himself again and again he had to forget her, hoping he really would, but thus lying to himself, and to the owl. Only minutes ago he had said for the first time he wanted to meet her again.

The fact that the possibility of this wasn't as surreal as he had thought it to be, made him so eager to see her that there was no use to deny his longing for her any longer.

"You need to send her a message," he said excited to Hedwig.

He looked around quickly and could almost scream from annoyance when he found out he was near the lake and thus far removed from his quill and any parchment. Franticly he checked the pockets of his pants and shirt for something to write, but except for a few small parts of old paper, there was nothing. When he was about to summon it from the castle, Hedwig managed to break the chain from the necklace again.

This time Harry was very pleased with this, understanding what his owl was doing, and why. Hedwig didn't need any more encouragement and quickly flew away, taking the necklace with her.

Harry remained standing near the lake for a while, so shocked by the sudden development that he couldn't do much more than staring at Hedwig until she was nothing more than a tiny dot in the air. He was willing to wait on that spot until Hedwig returned, no matter how long it would take.

However, very slowly the initial euphoria faded and was replaced by some common sense. He desperately wanted to meet Bellatrix again, his heart and soul told him that, but what if she didn't want him to? What if she wouldn't return his message, or wouldn't be able to do so?

Waiting wasn't enough. Even if she didn't want to meet him, he just had to, for him it was the only way to figure out what exactly was going on between them.

Part of him tried to stop himself by wondering what she would do if he suddenly appeared, _if_ he managed to find her. What if she hated him? What if she had forgotten him, what he had basically asked her when he had advised her not to look back? Had he the right to bother her now she had a new life? Wasn't this just all too extreme?

The other part of him tried to point out there had never been anything _normal_ in the very limited time they had spent together, so why look for a normal solution?

The part of Harry, which finally persuaded him to do something, was his heart. No matter what, he just _had_ to see her again. Now. If he wouldn't try to find her now, he would never do it, and he would keep brooding forever.

He had to act to keep himself distracted from the breathtaking thought he would probably very soon see again the woman who dominated his dreams. He didn't necessarily have to wait for Hedwig; she had proved in the past she could find him, no matter where he was, so if he was somewhere else the moment the owl returned, she would find him.

Harry paced on the sandy ground around the lake, a thousand possible ways to find Bellatrix spinning through his head, one even more useless than the other. He just had to wait until Hedwig returned, but he needed to _do _something in the meantime, so he decided to get his clothes and some other personal belongings from his room, so he would be completely ready to go when Hedwig returned.

Taking his clothes with him would mean Harry would be away for a rather long time, thus ignoring his expected battle against Voldemort, but he didn't care. The Dark Lord could wait; no matter how much damage he caused every day, Harry felt he wasn't able to stop him, even if he did spend even more time trying to find a way.

He smiled slightly when he finally knew what he would do. He ran back to the school to prepare everything. He didn't know how long it would take Hedwig to return, but at least he would be ready for whatever Bellatrix would reply if she saw her necklace. If necessary, he was even willing to follow Hedwig by foot to the place Bellatrix was hiding.

Harry ran towards his room to collect his belongings. When he was halfway he realized he should tell Dumbledore that he was leaving for a while. He changed direction and hurried towards the Headmaster's office.

After he had given the password and walked upstairs, he found the room empty; except for Fawkes the Phoenix there was no one.

"Professor, professor" Harry shouted, hoping that Dumbledore could still hear him.

The portraits on the wall looked at him suspiciously and one or two told him to shut up.

Harry decided to leave a note and turned around wildly to look for paper and a quill the second time that day. Suddenly Minerva McGonagall entered the room, who was looking for the cause of the sudden noise in the Headmaster's office.

"Where's professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, while catching his breath.

"He isn't at Hogwarts," his former Transfiguration teacher said, "like he told you two days ago."

"Really?" Harry asked bewildered, since he couldn't remember it.

"Really. He'll return within two days, just like he told you. I have heard it myself, at that time I was here too. Albus is in London on the Ministry. Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all," he said. "I just want to say I'm leaving for a few days."

"Leaving?!"

"Yeah," Harry said, not really sure about the 'few days' part since that was entirely up to Bellatrix.

"You can't just leave…"

"Yes, I can," he said, a bit annoyed. "Can you tell that to professor Dumbledore?"

"But... Potter, it's just impossible for you to… at least give me reason."

"Quidditch," he said, absentmindedly naming the second thing he could think of at that moment.

"Quidditch? Potter! I think you should to go the hospital wing instead of going wherever you intend to go!"

"I'm sorry, professor, but you can't stop me. I have to go now, but I'll be back soon."

Without saying one more word, he left Dumbledore's office and hurried towards his own room, leaving a bewildered McGonagall.

In another situation he would've felt very bad about it, but now he just didn't care. Too long had he spent all his time and energy to the 'greater good', now he deserved to do something 'selfish' for a while.

He ran towards his room and he quickly locked the door. The few things he wanted to take with him were packed within minutes: just some clothes, the Invisibility Cloak and his wand. It was all he needed for the time being. After one last glance he closed the door again and ran downstairs.

"Potter!"

Professor McGonagall literally blocked his way out. "Quidditch, huh?"

It was obvious she didn't believe him, but he simply _had_ to leave.

"Yes professor."

"Then where is your broom?

"Broom? O yes, of course, I always wait until the last moment to…

He didn't know what to say anymore and before she could stop him, he ran away. Just in case he would meet her again before he could reach the main entrance, he went back to his room, and found his old Firebolt somewhere beneath his bed. Because he couldn't hold his wand and carry the bag and the broom at the same time, he charmed the objects so they would come behind him.

After he had peeked through the half opened door to be sure McGonagall wasn't looking, he tried it again. He ran into the same direction as he had come from only minutes ago. That way was longer, but like he had expected, McGonagall wasn't there to stop him.

Harry was out of breath when he had sprinted from the tower to the main entrance of the school, but nothing seemed to be able to stop him. He ran until he was sure he wasn't on grounds of Hogwarts anymore, and then broke the spell, so his belongings gently fell on the ground.

He tried to decide what to do next while catching his breath. He couldn't use the floo network since there were no fireplaces around and he didn't know her address; he couldn't apparate because he didn't know where she lived; he couldn't randomly start to walk since he didn't know where to. He was thoroughly frustrated and he kicked against his trunk. Except for a hurt foot it didn't have any effects. He cursed at his wand, which he had dropped in the grass when he had realized he couldn't do anything. So much magic in the world, but when it was _really _needed, it was completely useless.

Like she had heard it, Hedwig appeared at that moment in the sky. Harry jumped up while waving his hands, hoping to get the owl's attention. Hedwig had already seen him and elegantly flew towards him.

Harry hearts beat faster when he noticed that something, which looked like a letter, and even a small package, was attached to Hedwig's foot. Harry felt a huge gratitude towards the owl that always arrived perfectly in time and seemed to be able to think like a human being.

Hedwig seemed to sense Harry's eagerness to read the message and flew even faster before sliding down to land on a branch with was on the same height as Harry's face. Quickly he released the message from her leg. With a heavily beating heart he started to read.

_My dearest Harry, in the package is a portkey, which will bring you to the place I live. I won't give any details in case this will read by someone who isn't you. I doubt this, your owl is very clever, but I don't take any risks. The portkey will be activated the moment you touch it. I hope you will come to see me. Love, B.B._

Harry had to read the short letter twice more before he fully realized that he would visit Bellatrix within minutes, and that she _hoped_ to see him. Just to be sure it wasn't a trap – he hadn't forgotten the Triwizard Cup – he read it once more. The writing was obviously hers; he had only one other hand written message from her, but he could recognize every dot and curl from her hasty yet elegantly writing.

He didn't want to wait any longer and summoned his broom and bag.

"You know where to find us," he said to Hedwig while he took the small package from her leg.

Harry opened it and peeked inside. When he recognized the necklace, he knew it was safe. He made sure his bag, broom and wand were in his left hand while he let the necklace fall in the opened palm from his right. He took a deep breath, and less than a second later the portkey was activated.


	4. Chapter 4

Although Harry was used to the uncomfortable way of traveling, he fell on the ground after the portkey had transported him and his stuff. He remained lying on the cold sand for a few seconds, before the dizziness faded and he could sit up.

He looked around curiously, breathing the salty air and hearing waves in the background.

_She has made it_, was his first thought, _living by the sea_; _her dream has come true_.

He stood up and looked around, for she probably would be near.

And there she was, a few hundred yards away from him. Just like him she stood up, and even from that distance he could see how beautiful she was. Her hair seemed to be like it had been in her youth; she wasn't as skinny anymore as she had been, even after her escape from Azkaban; and her usually extremely pale cheeks were flushed. The simply green dress she was wearing only made her look more like a queen in his eyes. The ghost she had been was replaced by a middle-aged woman who seemed determined to live again the years from her youth, which she basically had missed, thanks to Voldemort.

They just stared at each other, not sure what do to after they hadn't seen each other for such a long time. Slowly she walked towards him, and he too approached her carefully.

When they were close enough to look each other in the eyes and he saw how hers sparkled when she looked at him, he knew it was alright.

He ran towards her and took her in his arms. She hugged him so tightly it almost left him breathless, but it was a miraculous feeling. They were together again, that was the most important thing, no matter how it would work out in the future. But according to the way she embraced him, at least one aspect of his life would become how it was supposed to be.

She was more alive than anybody or anything he had ever seen; an aura of happiness seemed to be around her. The brown eyes which once had been so sad and almost dead, shone with an intensity he had never witnessed before. More had changed, he vaguely noticed: during their encounter at the Department of Mysteries they were almost the same length, now he was several inches taller than her.

"You're back," was the first thing she said, almost whispering.

"I had to," he muttered, too lost in her to think properly. "Well, I mean, I tried to deny it, but I couldn't bare to be away from you, and Hedwig…"

Though she tried to hide her disappointment, her eyes hardened and within a few seconds the happiness seemed to have left her.

"You _tried_ to deny it? And who is Hedwig? Harry, I thought… you had made me believe…"

Harry didn't understand what she was talking about at first. Wasn't it clear how happy he was to see her? Only when she turned around and walked away from him, he realized what his words had suggested.

"Bellatrix! I didn't mean it like that! Please listen, I…"

But she continued walking,apparently to a little cottage in the dunes that could be seen in the distance.

He couldn't let it happen, not like this. His wand was lying next to the necklace that wasn't a portkey any longer, out of his reach. There was only one other way.

He ran to catch up with her. Because of studying and worrying he had lost a lot of his strength, but his desperate longing for her gave him the speed he needed.

"Bellatrix! It isn't what you think, please let met _explain_!"

She looked over her shoulder and when she saw how close he was to her, she ran faster, but Harry had already almost outrun her.

He didn't see another way to talk to her. He didn't want to end what was going on between like this, whatever it was. But this way he could never talk to her. He needed to do something to prevent her from disappearing from his life again.

He jumped forwards and grasped one of her ankles, so they both fell in the sand: one mess of limbs, hair, heavy breath and soft moans from pain and shock.

They struggled; Bellatrix fought like a wild cat, desperate and determined to break free; but Harry was trying to prevent her from doing so with the same strength.

The position they were in was awkwardly familiar and he tried to ignore her rapidly moving chest and her thighs that brushed his body violently in her struggle to break free. He focused on pinning her arms to the ground, so he could force her to listen to him.

Suddenly a knife was pointed to his throat.

"Don't even think about it," she said. "If you ever touch me again, I'll make sure it's the last thing you'll ever do."

Reluctantly he let her arms go, but kept leaning over her.

"Bellatrix," he said while trying to catch is breath and hoping she wouldn't kill him before he had spoken to her. "I'm not doing what you probably think I'm doing. I just _need_ to explain what I said, it isn't what you think. Hedwig is the name of my owl, not another woman or whatever. Believe me, they tried, but I haven't been with someone except for you. I couldn't forget about you."

But she couldn't be that easily be persuaded, although the knife wasn't at his throat anymore.

"You said you had tried to ignore me, like I am some cheap whore you aren't supposed to care about," she said stubbornly.

"I have _never_ thought of you like that," he ensured her, while he softly caressed her cheek, hoping the look of intense sadness in her eyes would disappear.

"You're all I have… please don't tell me that I've waited, that I have survived, for two years to find that something is nothing."

"Never," he said again. "What I tried to say is that if people knew about us… I thought you wanted to be left alone. Well, I had expected that, after what had happened, and they barely let me leave Hogwarts."

A small smile reached her lips.

"You said 'us', like we are together."

All what had happened only minutes before was apparently forgotten and she threw the knife away, as a way of apologizing.

He rolled from her, now it was clear at least one misunderstanding had been cleared up.

"But it's just _bizarre_."

He hated himself for saying it; so many things he had wanted to tell or ask, and that was all he could think of saying. He closed is eyes, no wanting to see the grief his remark would probably inflict on her.

"No, it's not," she said softly.

Before he could open his eyes in surprise, her lips caressed his, and he totally surrendered to her warmth and tenderness. The energy and happiness which was within her again, reached him too when they deepened the kiss. He stroked her back with as much affection as he could. Her lips and tongue made him forget about the two dull and empty years that had passed since their first meeting, and her breath and body made him feel alive again. He tried to give her the same feeling, and according to the way she clung to him, he succeeded.

Finally they broke the kiss, and she let her head rest on his shoulder.

"I missed you," she whispered. "I missed you intensely, every single day."

"I missed you too," he replied, while he continued caressing her back.

"Why didn't you come earlier?" she asked, almost inaudible.

"I thought you didn't want me to. The letter you sent me along with the Invisibility Cloak was so short; there was nothing about _you_. I thought you didn't want me to."

"I did, but I had to be very careful, especially since the Dark L… Voldemort was after me. I think he still is."

Harry sat up and looked at her in shock.

"He still is!?"

"Yes."

He looked around anxiously, expecting Voldemort to show up any moment.

"Don't worry," she said. "He's still looking for me, yes, but I think I'm safe now. They are impossible to see, but there are so many protection and safety spells here, even Voldemort can't find me. Because _if _he would be able to do so, he would have already. And, you know, I have…"

Her speech faltered; it worried him, he could only imagine the horrors she had to go through the last two years.

"I have," she continued uncertain, "cast a special spell on myself. The Invisibility Curse. No one can find me, no matter how hard they try, and no one can _see_ me."

"I can see you," he said immediately, not knowing what to think of it.

She nodded slightly; it was clear she wasn't sure of what to say next exactly.

"According to the person who told me about it long ago, there might be only one human being who is still able to see you… only one."

Her eyes seemed to look straight into his soul, and somehow he presumed what she would say next.

"Only the person who you are destined to love," she added, thus confirming his guess.

She stared at the ground, obviously not wanting to look at him.

He looked at her in shock.

"What's wrong?" she asked, still not looking him in the eyes. "Shouldn't I have told you?"

"I don't know," he replied. "It just sounds… scary. I mean, even if it is true, how can you… does this mean that you and I… Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I don't… but… it's quite… unexpected. How does that spell work exactly?"

She hid her disappointment by telling him about the curse.

"It's relatively easy to cast the Invisibility Curse upon yourself, but hardly anyone does it. You see, it's called the Invisibility _Curse_ for a reason. As far as we know the process can't be undone for the rest of your life. I was about to do it years ago, but at the last moment I decided not to. I was to young to be invisible for the rest of my life. In retrospect it probably would have been a good decision, but I didn't. Now I had absolutely nothing to lose, and I had to square some debts.

"The brothers Lestrange," he noticed, glad that the 'destined to love' subject seemed to be abandoned. "And Malfoy."

She nodded.

"It was you, I knew it. You messed up Voldemort's plans; I'm sure of it. There was total panic among the Death Eaters, even months after you had killed Malfoy."

She laughed, but at the moment he mentioned the name, her smile faded.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, thinking of what Dumbledore had told him regarding the Lestrange brothers and Lucius Malfoy.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I was thinking… it must be worse now. It is, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, it got worse. But it would've happened sooner or later. It could be expected their numbers would increase; by killing the most important ones you created total chaos, Voldemort must have been heavily upset, especially since he never found out who had murdered his most loyal servants. But when you were gone, most of the remaining purebloods joined Vodemort. They want to be on the winning side, and a high position would be preferable."

"Winning side?" she repeated, while her face turned as pale as it had been for a very long time. "Even when…"

"Yes," Harry replied softly. "You killings were useful, but Voldemort has so many servants, he is so powerful… It isn't going well for us…"

"We have to talk," she said. "There must be a way. But it's rather uncomfortable here. My house is small, but I think there's enough room for both of us."

He accepted the invitation by standing up and following her. Together they walked to the cottage while she picked up the knife from the sand. She hid it beneath the fabric of her dress. Only when he too picked up his few belongings and the necklace when they were at the spot where he had appeared, and he put his wand in his pocket, he noticed hers was apparently missing. He checked the pockets of her dress with his eyes, but couldn't see her wand – maybe it was hidden beneath the long sleeves that covered even the largest part of her hand.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, almost blushing.

"Your wand," he answered, wondering why he felt so embarrassed. "It seems to be missing."

"Yes, it is, though it isn't missing in the literal sense of the word. I know exactly where it is, but I don't use it anymore."

Harry stared at the witch in disbelief, but closed his mouth when he realized the reason for this.

"The Ministry can trace it when I use it. Walnut, 12¾ inches, dragon heartstring. Almost as infamous as I am, since I used it to torture the Longbottoms. One of the many things I shouldn't have done. But well… let's say Rodolphus _insisted_. He couldn't do it himself. He would've killed them immediately. He just lacked the subtlety of hurting someone in such a way he or she will be your puppet instead of an empty shell. He forced me to find out what they knew about Voldemort's location, after he was somehow informed, probably by a spy on the Ministry, that the Longbottoms might had any information about what hat happened to Voldemort. When I tried to figure out what exactly, I didn't expect to find something, but I _did_. It probably wouldn't have mattered, but they had been around when Voldemort disappeared, and although they were in another part of the village than where your house was, they heard the noises and saw the flash of green light. I'm not sure what else they had seen… I was scared, because Rodolphus expected me to share whatever information I found, and if I didn't do so and he did have the idea I had found something, he would force me to tell so. He knew nothing of psychological pain, but physical… So I said I didn't find anything yet, but that I wouldn't stop looking for it until I did…"

"Wait a second," Harry said. "Are you seriously telling you could've find a clue about Voldemort in the memories of the Longbottoms, but that you _didn't_ force them to share it, although you were a Death Eater?"

"Yes. Believe me, if there is, and was, somebody who didn't want Voldemort to return, it's me. Everyone feared him, of course, but no one was exposed to his cruelty and rage every single hour of every single day. And if I would've witnessed the memories from the Longbottoms, I could've seen something that would give a clue about what had happened to Voldemort… nobody did have any idea at the time, just after his disappearance. And I certainly didn't want to be the one who would find information that might would help to bring him back. So I destroyed the memories…and in order not to raise suspicion, I had to destroy some more. I am sorry for it, but it was them or me."

Silently they walked the last part to the house, while Harry was trying to deal with another shocking piece from Bellatrix' past. For a moment he doubted the story, he just couldn't believe that a Death Eater would destroy such information, knowledge that could've brought Voldemort back so many years earlier. It would probably have made her the most powerful and mighty witch on earth, but when he saw her sad face and remembered what she had told him about the years she had spent serving Voldemort, he realized that she was telling the truth.

"I haven't used my wand for ages. Almost two years ago was the second last time. I cast the Invisibility Curse on myself, and a few hours ago I activated the portkey. In the meantime I just... I don't know. It was very weird at first, but I managed. I was familiar with a life without magic once, though it was only for a very short time, but it helped me through this. Now I'm used to it, but at first it is horrible to actually _work _to achieve something. But it's strangely deliberating in a way. And I'm sorry it took me so long to send you the Invisibility Cloak, but I didn't know how to contact you in a safe way. Luckily your owl found me. Hedwig is her name, right? Somehow she managed to steal my necklace, and although it doesn't even look like the one I gave you, I understood after quite some time that... why are you laughing?!"

"Nothing," he said, "but she did the exact same thing to me."

"Have you worn it?" she asked quietly.

"Every single day. Even when I slept. I was willing to curse Hedwig when she took it," Harry admitted, smiling. "I realized how fond I was of the thing – and the owner."

She stopped dead in her tracks and faced him. She stared at him, wondering he had really said what she thought she had heard. Then she stepped closer to him and he reached for her, but when his hand was only inches away from her face, Hedwig suddenly appeared in the air and flew down to them. Harry took a step away from Bellatrix and smiled apologizing at her.

"It doesn't matter," she said, feigning nonchalance. "I'm sure it's an important message."

Hedwig landed on Bellatrix' shoulder and Harry took the piece of parchment which was tied to the owl's leg.

"What does it say?" she asked curiously before she realized what she had actually said.

"I'm sorry," she said while her cheeks reddened. "It's your message, not mine."

"Don't worry," he said, wondering how often he had said that sentence already in the rather limited time he had spent with her that day. He started to realize being with her wasn't as easy and natural as he had expected it to be.

He opened the message and immediately noticed Dumbledore's writing.

"How can that be?" Harry asked bewildered. "How can Hedwig bring a letter from Dumbledore when he's in London? I left her less than two hours ago at Hogwarts, and in that time she managed to fly from Hogwarts to London to… where are we here?"

"We're still in England," she said. "I think someone ordered your owl to go to London, and maybe Dumbledore knew the message arrived… that meddlesome man."

The bitter way she said it made him wonder what exactly had happened between Bellatrix and Dumbledore when she was still at Hogwarts and had to tell him about the rape.

"Your owl is strong," she added, "and we're not that far from London. If she had a following wind, she could've made it."

"McGonagall," Harry said suddenly. "She tried to stop me from leaving the castle. I'm sure she must have warned Dumbledore immediately."

Quickly he read the Headmaster's message.

_Please return to Hogwarts as soon as possible_.

"Is that it?" he asked, slightly annoyed, before he showed the short letter to Bellatrix.

"It seems like it," she answered, while she studied the note like there might was a second message on it.

"Why would he want me to return to Hogwarts? He must realize there's nothing we can do against Voldemort… I had thought he would understand I needed a break."

He stared at Hedwig, like she would give him an answer, but the owl looked to Bellatrix instead. Harry followed her gaze; Bellatrix opened the cottage's door and made a welcoming gesture. Her warm but slightly uncomfortable smile persuaded him: he simply couldn't refuse the offer.

"Please come in," she said when he walked to the door. "You're the first visitor who has ever been here. Except for Hedwig maybe. You can leave when you want, but please, come in first."

The owl flew to a table in a corner of the room when Harry entered the little house. Bellatrix removed some books from the table so the owl could sit there; while she did so Harry had some time to scan the interior.

Although the house was small, there was quite some space inside because all the furniture was placed mostly against the walls, so there was plenty of room left in the middle. The colors from the curtains, carpet and wallpaper where bright and cheerful. Although he hardly could've imagined Bellatrix liking a color that wasn't black and maybe red or emerald green, he found out now her living room contained more colors than the rather excessive decoration of the Gryffindor common room; it was yet another unexpected side from Bellatrix.

"Do you like it?" she asked when she saw him checking the room.

"Yes," he said truthfully. "Cozy and happy. Can I ask how you get it, without using magic?"

"Of course you can," she replied. "I have known this place since I was an infant. When I was only ten years old I ran away from my home; I couldn't stand it anymore that my parents tried to brainwash me, hoping I would become a 'respectable and noble Black' so I would 'marry a wealthy pureblood' like I was 'supposed to do'. I still hear my parents saying it… I was only ten. One day I was so tired of it… they had locked me up in my room when I had asked them once again why I had to hate Muggles. Somehow I managed to escape through the window. I'm sure they had locked it all carefully, and I didn't know any spells yet, I even didn't have a want. I still can't explain it… somehow the glass from the window just vanished," she said like she still couldn't believe it.

Harry recalled his own adventure in the zoo, so many years ago, and could easily recognize the surprise he had felt and she must had experienced too.

"I climbed from the first floor to the ground, and when my parents didn't come immediately after me like I had expected, I ran away from my home. I don't really know why I did it, it was just some sort of intuition. I left the small village where we lived, which is located not so far away from here, and I walked to the dunes. Somehow that place had always attracted me, but I was never allowed to go there. When my parents weren't there to stop me, I finally went to discover that mysterious place. I was only a little girl, so of course I got lost. My parents didn't come to find me: perhaps they really didn't know I had run away, or maybe they thought I would return sooner or later, begging for forgiveness… both options are probable, knowing my parents. I didn't want to return to people who didn't love me and only wanted me to marry a pureblood and have a lot of pureblood children so the pureblood's pureblood would get even more _disturbed_ since I probably would have to marry some relative; even in those days there were hardly any purebloods left so we were often forced to marry family members."

She stared angrily outside, like she still could hear her parents tell her what to do, or better, what not to do.

"I had hardly ever been outside that late, and I especially had never been outside the village at night. I wasn't used to the extreme darkness above the sea. I couldn't see my own hands, and I still remember how scared I was. I wandered randomly through the dunes, hoping that I would find some light at least. After a while I was so exhausted I couldn't take one more step. I fell asleep in the sand, feeling even lonelier than I always was at home. When I woke up, only a few hours later, I found myself in a small and warm place, and I heard someone humming. There was an elderly man in the room. He told me he had found me close to the beach and that I felt very cold; he was afraid I would get ill or worse if I remained there, so he had taken me to his home. I didn't have to be afraid, he told me, he wouldn't harm me and I could go whenever I wanted to. But I didn't want to go; it was a totally new experience to me to meet a grown-up who actually respected me and asked me what I wanted. So I stayed at the night, and somehow I felt so much at ease there. I didn't want to face my parents, so when he didn't tell me to go in the morning, I just stayed in his little cottage and helped him with his work. He was a fisherman and he thought me how to do that work. It was obvious he was a Muggle, but I didn't care at all. To me it was the perfect way to show my parents that I would do the things I wanted myself. They couldn't see me anyway, but the idea was good enough to me – or at least, I _thought_ they couldn't see me. I had wandered around for hours in the dunes and I was sure, being the little girl that I was, that I was somehow in another world and that my parents could never find me. Actually, I was only a few miles away from their home, and within a few days they had found me. They were furious… _furious_. Before I had fully understood what was going on, they had already murdered that poor old fisherman. I cried, and because I did so, I angered them only more of course. After that I blacked out. The first thing I could remember was that I was in my bed, still crying. My parents had cast protection spells now in my room, everywhere, so I couldn't escape again. They told me that if I would ever something like that again, they would made sure I'd _really _regret it."

She looked at him sadly. "That's the moment I was sure I never wanted to be like my parents… never wanted to be a pureblood… but it was clear what would happen to me if I didn't obey them. So I did. I joined Voldemort like they expected me to do, I married Rodolphus… and when I noticed what I was really doing, it was too late… I couldn't escape from them anymore. The only way to try to survive for me was to pretend to be a loyal Death Eater, while in reality I kept dreaming about that place in the dunes. You see, my parents had destroyed the fisherman's house, but when I was older, more powerful, and I was at Hogwarts, I would sneak away at days we were supposed to go to Hogsmeade and I went back to that place. I managed to restore what was left of the house, and I placed there all the safety spells I knew. And some other tricks to make sure that _if_ I would ever live there, that life would be comfortable. Every time I went back to improve it, I felt more I would never actually live there, but the thought that I _could_ live there, if I really couldn't stand it anymore to live the life I did, was very supportive in a certain way. But I never actually went… I was sure Voldemort would find me and torture me, really torture me, before he would kill me.  
And I feared that… I feared that so much. And then, two years ago, when we met, it was clear to me. I'd rather die than serve him again. Rather a small change of freedom and the risk of the pain, than going back to Voldemort. I went back to that place, and although I hadn't been there since I had left Hogwarts, it hadn't changed a bit, thanks to all those spells. During the years I had served him, I had learned some rather useful spells and curses, which I could use too to protect the house. And when I was certain enough about the defense and I had cast the Invisibility Curse on myself, I went back to kill those who have dominated my life for too long. Except for Voldemort… that was simply impossible. And when that was done, I returned here and never left."

They remained silent for a while after she had told him what she had done during those years.

"So now I finally know," Harry said. "I've been thinking about you so often, do you know that?"

"I'm very glad to hear that there was something who _did_ want me to make it… and I'm glad it was you. You are a special person Harry… and not only because what you do against Voldemort. But let's not talk about that now. It's getting late. I'm quite hungry after all this talking. I'm going to make dinner. The question is: for one or for two?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore's message, which he was still holding.

"Do you have a quill?"

"There are a few on the table," she answered, bewildered, "but…"

"That'll do," he said when he summoned the quill.

"Professor, I won't return to Hogwarts this evening," he spelled while he wrote that message down.

"Are you sure?" she asked, not able to hide another smile that brightened her face.

"Yes," he said while he signed the message. "I'm sure."

"Ok then," she answered before she headed towards the kitchen.

Harry made sure the note was securely tied to Hedwig's leg before he walked outside with the owl on his arm.

"Bring this to Dumbledore," he said. "And please bring back his answer – if he answers – as soon as you can. I'm very curious to know how he'll react."

Hedwig flew off immediately. Harry stared at the owl, who was flying from Bellatrix' place back to the wizarding world now instead of the other way around.

Although Bellatrix had tried to reassure him, he still felt Dumbledore's message had arrived too fast, and that something was going on which he should be aware of. But Bellatrix' sweet voice asked him to come in because dinner was almost ready, and said that he just didn't have to worry.

He told himself he would consider again to go back to Hogwarts the next day; a few more extra hours of relaxing and personal joy couldn't harm anybody, could they?

Bellatrix called again. He stepped inside and watched amused how she was preparing dinner without magic. When he laughed aloud she playfully threw a dishcloth at him, which hit him full in the face. They both grinned like they were little children, until Bellatrix commanded him to help her preparing dinner while trying to keep a straight face.

A few minutes later dinner was ready. It was the first meal since quite some time Harry actually tasted, and the smile on Bellatrix' face when he complimented her about the food was so sincere and beautiful that all his plans about returning to Hogwarts were forgotten.


	5. Chapter 5

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was completely disorientated and for a few moments he had no idea where he was. The place he had slept wasn't as comfortable as his bed at Hogwarts, so he wasn't at school. It was very silent, so he wasn't at the Burrow either. Only when he saw the orange wallpaper he realized he was in Bellatrix' house. But where was she? And had they…

He sat up abruptly, almost falling from the couch he had slept on while doing so. Then he remembered again that they had gone to bed immediately after their late meal – separately. They had both pretended to be tired when they found out that communication between them was hard. They never had spoken to each other in normal circumstances; they had never learned to know each other and there were many differences between them, both obvious and unexpected ones. They were finding out this would get worse and worse if they wouldn't find a way to deal with it.

She had slept on the attic, in her bed which, she had told him, was only big enough for one person. What she had trying to say with that wasn't clear to him. She wanted him to sleep in her bed, and she would spend the night in the living room if he wanted her to. But he had insisted on sleeping on the couch himself. Suddenly the idea of sleeping in her bed – or with her – wasn't as normal and natural as it may had seemed in the past.

Somehow he had thought it would be easier if he would finally meet her again. Only now it became more and more clear that things would get even more complicated.

"Good morning," a voice behind him said.

He turned around quickly to see Bellatrix, who was sitting on a chair, like she had been there for quite some time. She was wearing a blue night gown, so unlike the black dress he had seen her in before. There wasn't a book or something to do near her; she had been watching him, waiting until he would wake up. He shivered lightly at the thought, and he wondered how on earth Bellatrix could make him feel like this.

He didn't reply her greeting, but just stared at her now he finally had the chance after hundreds of times waking up alone.

She had probably been sitting there for quit some time, yet she looked like she had just woken: her uncombed hair fell wildly around her face and she blinked like she still wasn't entirely awake

"You're beautiful," he said, speaking his thoughts.

She blushed, and smiled shyly.

"No one has ever told me," she said softly, like it was normal he said such thing after the awkwardness from the last day.

"Then all those pureblood wizards must be blind."

"Or you are… I'm certainly not an angel."

"I know."

He wanted to add so much more but again, he could do nothing but stare at the woman and wonder how they could ever be together; their lives seemed to be so separate and yet, entwined at the same time.

"Harry… I need to know," she said slowly, maybe sensing his doubt. "I have to protect myself against more pain and disappointment. So I need to ask… will you stay here? Not forever, I mean, that would be ridiculous, even in our situation, but just for the time being, until we..."

She talked faster and faster, and Harry had to raise his hand to interrupt her.

"I'll stay a long as you want me t," he said, without hesitation, sure of that one thing: he would do his best to make this work, no matter the difficulties he would have to deal with if he'd choose for this.

She smiled happily and a burden fell from his shoulders, although she didn't seem completely at ease.

"I'll make some tea," she said, to celebrate your stay."

He nodded, returning her smile, while he sat up properly and removed his bedding from the couch. He had slept in his normal clothes; he hadn't been in the mood to unpack his bag the other day.

"How are things going?" Bellatrix asked when she returned from the kitchen, carrying two cups of tea. He accepted one of them, though he almost dropped it when she walked closely past him and her nightgown fell open, exposing most of her legs.

She didn't notice the little accident and sat down next to him on the couch.

"This area is completely isolated from the rest of the world. You can't even Apparate here; that's why I sent you the portkey. I had to charm it in such a way only you would be able to get here. You can only come here if you are looking for his particular place, and no one sees me… except for you. It's perfectly safe, even Voldemort can't find me."

She smiled triumphantly; it was quite an achievement indeed to hide from the powerful wizard for such a long time.

"But it has some serious disadvantages," she added. "I have no idea what's going on in the world. Do you have some news?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"Yes, but it isn't good. A lot of Muggles are killed, half-bloods as well, and even a few tolerant pure-bloods who stand up against Voldemort and his servants. There are so many of them now… everyone who isn't brave enough to fight Voldemort, seemed to have joined him."

She sighed deeply at the news.

"It could be expected. I've been there myself; I know his ways of tricking people into servitude. Is there any resistance against them?"

"Hardly. Members of the Order are stationed at Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and the Ministry, to make sure those places are safe, and they try to arrive at every location that has been attacked as soon as they can, in the hope they can arrest or kill some Death Eaters, but they always have Disapparated already. Cowards, that's what they are. We know where they are, but those places are so heavily guarded, it would take too many lives to approach those. Voldemort's house, Malfoy Manor, some places in…"

"Malfoy Manor?" she asked quietly. "Cissy – my sister I mean… I thought that she would escape from that life when Lucius would be dead."

"Only months after his death she married again, with some important Death Eater. And Draco serves Voldemort now too; he has left Hogwarts after his sixth year."

"The idiots," she said, her eyes filled with rage. "I gave them a chance to be free… Cissy has told me often enough how Malfoy terrorized her and her son, how often she said that everything would be different if he was gone, but that she didn't have the courage to…"

"So that's why you killed him?"

He observed her closely, remembering what Dumbledore had said about Malfoy and the Lestranges. Immediately he felt the change of ambiance when he asked her this.

"Yes," she said after a few seconds, her eyes breaking contact with his. She was lying to him, and he almost confronted her with that, but at the last moment he decided not to mention it – yet."

"And how is the progress concerning…"

"Nothing," he sighed, both because of the change of topic and the nature of it. "We don't even known where he is… only now I heard he was looking for you, I can explain why we didn't hear of him. Have you ever actually seen him?"

"Luckily not. I'm not sure how he would react, only that it would be very bad. I mean, there aren't supposed to be any ways to break the Invisibility Curse, but if he knows that I have cast it on myself, he_ will_ find a way to break it."

"Even though you said yesterday that it can't be broken?"

"Mark my words Harry. Every spell can be broken… that's the way magic works. Take that from me. Although it seems that the results of certain spells can't be undone – the Killing Curse is another example – there always is a way, we just don't see it. Yet. I sincerely belief that there is a way to defeat Voldemort, but… we can only hope we'll find it soon."

"Do you have any information that could help to kill him?"

"I have some vague ideas, but I'm sure you have already considered those and if it would've been a good plan, you would've done something… then we wouldn't be hiding here."

"Don't you think it's a bit odd that he's trying to find you, even after all those years and you're supposed to be _dead_?" he said, suddenly realizing how odd this was.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew him. Nobody who was so close to him, has ever left him in such a way. Others have died in the past, but then he was completely sure of it. Not in my case. No body, no confirmation… only your word. And let's face it… he won't listen to you, of course not. Besides, he is extremely possessive. I mean, I was _married _to Rodolphus, but once Voldemort had fucked me for the first time, he _forbade_ Rodolphus to touch me, or even to look at me. Not that it mattered – they are both very violent, the only difference is that Rodolphus just thinks he can enjoy it more by hurting me, Voldemort _likes_ to see me in pain. Sometimes I wasn't allowed to leave his bedrooms for days... In the beginning I dared to refuse once. Well… let's just say I'll _never_ forget that."

She stared in the distance, and Harry could only imagine what Voldemort could've done that it was remarkable, even to her.

"Did they believe it, anyway?" she asked, changing the subject of the conversation quickly.

"Yes, they did. Dumbledore was hard to persuade though. I had to lie to him. It wasn't nice but somehow he knew I hadn't told the truth when I said I had accidentally killed you. I told him a few months later that I had killed you on purpose, and that I had moved your body back to the Death Chamber, where I blasted it through the veil so it seemed an accident. He believed it."

She nodded relieved.

"They don't know how it then; so at least one side will leave me alone. And do you know what the Death Eaters think? You obviously don't talk to them, but maybe you heard any rumors?"

"No, nothing. What I heard, they have forgotten you very fast, especially since they were very busy worrying about themselves when you murdered the Lestranges and Lucius Malfoy."

"That's good," she said. "I don't think Voldemort will ever tell .. You know, I've been thinking about it a a lot last year. I think that in his own sick and disturbed way, he had certain feelings for me. Or for my body, that's more likely. The way he reacts… it makes me wonder…"

Harry didn't like this. The idea of Bellatrix and Voldemort together, especially because of the horrible way he had treated her – it disgusted him. And it scared him that Voldemort's and his own feelings towards Bellatrix might be similar, if even a tiny little bit.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Do you have any suggestion, just the most farfetched idea, about something about Voldemort that could help killing him? You were rather…. close to him after all."

"It depends," she said, trying not to look hurt. "If you want to find him.. If I would show up, he'll come. Then he is found… and you can kill him. I'm not sure what he'd do, though it won't be good. Not at all, but he'll come."

"But I can't kill him… and I don't want him to kill you, or hurt you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he said, annoyed by the fact she doubted him.

"It's hard for me to believe."

"What?!"  
"Yes," she said loudly; it was clear she bad been thinking about this all night and had been waiting for the right moment to speak her mind. "You don't show up for two years. Only when you can't think about a way to kill him yourself, you come to me, and you tell me in the most insincere way you want to have my company and advice. When I am angry because of that and want to be left alone, you _attack _me and force me to talk to you. Then you kiss me, let me belief that you'll stay with me, that you're not only here because of your own plans, and then you suggest you want to use me to finish Voldemort!"

"I never… you are saying things that aren't true, and I… I just asked, I'm trying to figure out way and I had _told _you that all those ideas are impossible, and…"

"Yeah, see? But if it was possible, would you do that? Would you sacrifice me and use me by telling that you care for me?"

They stared at each other, while they tried to find out their intentions, raising their voices while doing so. They were both proud and independent, but stubborn, lonely and hurt too, and they only paid attention to their negative traits at that moment.

"You didn't get in touch with me for almost two years," she continued, furiously. "I've been waiting for you all this time, telling myself that one day you would come to me, and that we together would find a way to make things better."

"How could I have known you are wanted to see me?" he said, bewildered. "That message... it was so short, like you didn't _want _me to come."

"I did want you to…" she screamed. "I have just told you that if I _had_ sent you such a letter because I didn't want to be found!"

"You did rather well," he yelled back, "for I couldn't find you either!"

"You did yesterday, didn't you? If you could've done it yesterday, you could've found me any other day! You only come when the rest of your life sucked so much that you decided to come, only yesterday, like a last, desperate attempt to…"

"Well maybe," he shouted back, "did it have to do with my owl. And I have a life you know, except for amusing you. I'm supposed to kill Voldemort, and yes, every help is welcome, but all you can do is telling how bad he treated you and I understand how horrible he is but I'm not him so stop thinking I would use you or sacrifice you in the way you apparently think I want to!"

He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger, but he couldn't. It was so much easier to confront her with his rage and uncertainty than to hide it, like he had done for so long.

"And besides, when I finally come here, because I have finally figured out a way to reach you in the first place, you threat to _cut my throat_ just because I was…"

"Don't forget you raped me two years ago, so _maybe_ my response was not totally unexpected when you pinned me to the ground again! This is real life Harry, not your safe and comforted life at school. This is what it is about, and if you can't deal with it, pity for you, but then you won't have a chance against Voldemort."

"Funny that you mention him," Harry shouted, not calmed by her honest words. "Cause I was thinking: it would be quite a good thing for Voldemort that I am stuck here instead of being at Hogwarts, where I _should_ be, to find a way to kill him! I think he would be quite happy if he knew I was here with you, and since you _were_ a servant of his for the greater part of your life, I can't keep but wondering: are you sure you are _really _invisible, are you _really _hidden, and are you _really_ who you pretend to be?"

"Those arguments are so stupid, so _immature_, that I shouldn't even try to argue with you!" she shouted, angrier than ever before. "If you think that all this is only meant to trick you, if you want to go back to your school where the chance of something real happening to you is smallest, if you want to give up what is going on between us, no matter how absurd it is, then just go! Just leave me, go back to your depressing life, try again to find a way to kill Voldemort all by yourself, without any help from a former Death Eater, who is willing to help you for numerous reasons. If you really think that…"

"Are you FINALLY DONE?" he shouted, not wanting to hear it, not knowing what to think or feel anymore.

"NO," she yelled back.

Her fury would've scared any other, but all it did to Harry, was suddenly reminding him again of what she had done to Sirius.

"You are a murder and a liar," he screamed at the top of his voice.

Anger burned within him like a fire that destroyed everything on its path. He would've cursed her if his wand wouldn't have been on the table that was outside their reach. Instead he took her books and threw them to her, almost enjoying the sound of the tearing pages, and her horrified screams.

"How dare you to judge me… I may have killed but I'm…"

He even didn't give her the change to talk.

"You have 'killed'? You murdered my godfather, your own cousin. What did he do to you? Why did he deserve that? You said it was because of something personal, that it was his fault… I spared you. You made me belief me that you didn't kill him because he was on our side, but because there was a real reason for it. I believed you, because I've seen in Dumbledore's Pensive that Sirius and my father weren't saints, but I've thought about it a lot and there wasn't a single reason for you to kill him."

"What the… how can you only _think_ that you do have any idea about what was going on in my life," she shrieked.

If he wouldn't have been so angry himself he would've feared her rage now, but still he didn't.

"You lied to me," he shouted, not caring anymore whether what he was saying was correct or not, as long as he could provoke her enough to let her reveal the truth about Sirius.

"Isn't it enough if I say that he deserved it?" she yelled, almost hysterically.

"No it's NOT. What you say can't be proved, so how can I be sure of it that you aren't lying?

"You can't, but you could try to _trust _me."

"I've done that two years ago, and what happened? I spared the life of a murderer, who did deserve to die."

It wasn't his attention to say the last part of that sentence, but he just couldn't help it. The frustrations, longing and fear couldn't be suppressed any longer; and he didn't see how it was about to destroy the spirit of the woman in front of him, and the things that were going on between them. The entire situation was just too much to handle for both of them, and although he knew it was cruel, unfair and wrong, he couldn't stop yet.

"And how can I be sure your entire 'my life is so awful' story isn't one big lie too? That you only told me that so I wouldn't kill you?"

"You wouldn't have killed me anyway," she shouted once more, even more passionate. "Cause you know what you are? A child. An ignorant kid who can't understand that 100 percent good and 100 percent bad doesn't exist. When you grow up, you'll notice there doesn't exist something like 'the truth' because people can have another view on the same event."

"Yeah sure," Harry yelled, "maybe Death Eaters do. And you know what? The Invisibility Curse crap, I don't believe a word from it. Hedwig can see you as well, and I don't think that she is 'destined to love' you."

"That's because she isn't a human, you IDIOT." She was on the verge of hysteria now. "And _you _know what? I'M SICK OF THIS. If you are only here to offend me, to hurt me just a little bit more… LEAVE ME ALONE, like you should've done if your only intention is to shout at me the way you are doing now, like it's my fault the world is the way it is! I suggest you leave this place before I will demonstrate you that I haven't forgotten everything that I learned in Voldemort's service. The pain you cause me by behaving the way you do, whether it is intentional or not, will be _nothing _compared to what I can make you feel."

He didn't fear her; in fact, he didn't really heard what she said at all. A power stronger than his own will overwhelmed him, it caused him to lose his common sense. Anger took over him completely. All he wanted was the satisfying thought that he could wound her the way she had hurt him; the darkness within him made him smile cruelly when he realized there was one more thing he could confront her with.

"And why…" he spoke softly now, knowing this would have such an impact on her that he didn't need to shout at all. "… did I have to hear from Dumbledore that..."

"You have been talking about me with _Dumbledore?_" she shrieked before he could continue. "How could you, my personal life, he had sworn he would never…"

"So you don't deny it?" Harry shouted triumphantly; she reacted in such a way that he didn't even have to tell her what Dumbledore had said about her, the Lestranges and Lucius Malfoy. He didn't care that it was wrong to mention it, especially at this moment, but he simply needed to hurt her verbally to get rid of some of the guilt he felt for caring for the killer of his godfather so much. And maybe, if he provoked her enough, she would tell what the motive for the murder was. He had been able to deal with the pain of losing his godfather by telling himself there was a reason for this, that there was another side of the story, but he just couldn't see it. And if Bellatrix had been lying after all… it was never too late to take revenge. He wanted to hear her say whether Sirius was innocent or not.

"I don't deny it," she said after she was recovered from the initial shock, her voice almost inaudible. "Because what's the point if even people I trust are gossiping about me?"

She blinked stubbornly to hold back the tears, but Harry didn't have mercy on her.

"If you would've told me, I wouldn't have had to ask him!"

"Told you? Well sorry Mr. Potter that I didn't inform you about my most secret and horrible memories after you had just tried to kill me! I HAVE ENOUGH. Apparently you really can't do anything besides humiliating me just a little bit more. Please go, and never return. That isn't a question. Not this time."

They stared at each other, and Harry didn't realize exactly what was happening, only that he had gone way too far, whether he liked it or not.

"GO!"


	6. Chapter 6

_Many, many thanks to emma-juliefan for betareading._

_I'm sorry it took me so incredibly long to post this. I will try to update more frequently in the future. _

**Chapter 6**

Harry and Bellatrix stared at each other, for minutes it seemed, both realizing the meaning of her words. The silence was in many ways worse than the shouting. Harry was unable to move, not able to believe what she had actually said, not _wanting_ it to be true; despite the fight, he didn't want it to end… not like _this. _

However, the way she looked at him was undeniable. _Get out of my house before I hex you_, her burning eyes said, wordlessly.

"Fine," Harry shouted at last. "If that's what you want, FINE!"

He was trembling with anger that was stronger than the unfamiliar feeling that had been a part of him for two years. After one last glance, he turned around and left the house, slamming the door behind him angrily.

A nagging voice inside his head told him that what he was doing was a mistake, but he defended his actions by convincing himself that she was wrong too, that he didn't have to be fair because she wasn't either.

Again Hedwig zoomed around his head, as if she was trying to prevent him from walking away. However, Harry couldn't be stopped and he simply ignored the owl, trying to hide his disappointment by blaming Bellatrix for the unexpected developments, which had hurt him so much.

Harry walked away from the cottage and resisted looking back; he was completely oblivious to the rain that now soaked his clothes and hair. When he couldn't see the house anymore and his rage had slowly decreased, he sat down in the sand, hoping that the rain would wash away the growing guilt and a strange feeling of incompleteness he was experiencing.

But it didn't. Reason was taking over again and he couldn't deny it anymore: he had hurt both Bellatrix and himself deeply by offending her and leaving her like this, just because she didn't want to tell him everything about her life.

Slowly he realized how foolish and immature his behavior had been, but he couldn't forget what Bellatrix had done either; she had made it clear that she didn't want his companionship any longer. It was rather weird since she had stated less than twenty-four hours ago that she had wanted him to stay.

He remained lying in the sand, his eyes closed, and tried to consider the nature of his relationship (or lack of it) with Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Hedwig sat next to him now, sympathizing with him.

"You like her, don't you?" he asked the owl. "Stealing our necklaces... quite a matchmaker you are, aren't you?"

Hedwig looked at him as if she wanted to say something.

"Alright, I have missed her… I just seem to long for her all the time; but it's so _wrong._ There are so many differences… I'm so much _younger _than her… and I think it's quite a miracle we haven't actually tried to kill each other. She can be so very… well."

Harry felt ridiculous for talking to his owl like this - like he was still an insecure teenager, but he didn't really know what else to do.

He ignored his apparently disapproving owl for a while and remained lying on the ground, enjoying the drops of water that fell on his face.

"I shouldn't have come here," he continued after a few minutes. "During the two years that we hadn't seen each other, things have changed so much. What might have been going on between us is… And it was so wrong to begin with, so I should just…"

Suddenly Hedwig looked up to a point in the distance, and spread her wings to fly away.

"Yeah, why not, leave me too," Harry shouted to his owl, while he tried to ignore the sudden loneliness he was experiencing. "I'm gonna leave," he muttered angrily. "This is madness. I feel even worse than before. I lied to everybody to protect that woman and now to go back to her, and just see what..."

He shrugged and forbade himself to say one more word because he was making a complete fool of himself by trying to justify his own actions to himself. He couldn't stand to be in that place any longer. He wanted to go back to Hogwarts before he could do something stupid again. Harry had to admit to himself that he should've been nicer to Bellatrix and that she wouldn't have reacted the way she had if he had have been a little bit more understanding.

But he persuaded himself that it was too late to apologize and that he'd better return to Hogwarts before Professor Dumbledore could be angry with him too. Harry knew that he had a _lot_ to explain to his former Headmaster, but he knew the man well and that he would be forgiven in the end. That was very much unlike Bellatrix, which was another reason that suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to go back to his old school again.

His belongings, even his wand, were still in Bellatrix' house, so he needed to go back there first. Harry wasn't looking forward facing her now, scared of how she might react, but he obviously couldn't leave without his possessions. So, reluctantly, he headed back to the cottage.

When he was close enough, he peeked into the house through the large window on the front. Luckily, Bellatrix wasn't there.

Harry entered the house, not caring for the drops of water that fell on to the floor and the muddy footprints he created there.

He directly walked towards the table where he had put his wand yesterday, but to his bewilderment, it wasn't there. And his broom, which had been in the corner near the kitchen, wasn't there either.

Quickly, he scanned the room and sighed with relief as he spotted his belongings on the couch. He hurried over to them and picked up his wand, the Invisibility cloak, his broom and the still unpacked bag. Bellatrix had gathered all of his belongings on the couch near the door, it was evident that she wanted Harry to leave immediately.

However, there was another object on the couch - one that didn't belong to him. It was one of the books that he had thrown at her, the one she had been reading earlier. This confused him. Curious, he opened the book and to his surprise, she had written his name on the first page.

Only then he saw that a bookmark was inside I. Not able to resist, he turned to that page and scanned the text. He had absolutely no idea what the book was about, especially not that chapter, and why she had chosen that chapter. He wondered whether it had a special meaning, but he started reading anyway.

"_It doesn't matter," the girl said. "It wouldn't have worked between us anyway. I'm looking for something that'll last and isn't over after a few wild nights. And even if you say you won't, I just know you'll leave me sooner or later."_

"_Of course I will," the prince said._

_The girl's mouth formed the word 'see', but he gestured her to let him finish speaking._

"_What I'm saying, is that sooner or later you'll die, or I'll die… eventually one of us will leave the other behind because of something we have no control over. We don't want that to happen, but it does. The only thing we can do is to savor in the moments of happiness we find in the meantime." _

_The girl sighed._

"_Yes, that's all very nice, but I'm just a girl. You're a prince, a future king. We aren't meant to be together."_

"_And who decides that?" The prince asked softly. "You? Me?" _

"_No," she said, "but…"_

"_My love, it's only about you and me, so why care about what others might think?"_

_She looked at him and when she saw the sincerity and love in his eyes, she smiled. "So you don't mind that I'm only a poor girl and that you'll never become a wealthy prince if you marry me?"_

"_We won't be rich in the literal meaning of the word, but I'll feel better than the wealthiest man in the world if I have you at my side."_

Harry's eyes widened when he read the words. He was mesmerized because he had never thought that Bellatrix would read _this_ kind of book, but of course it was the meaning of the words that shocked him most. He realized that the girl and the prince in the book, no matter how silly they seemed, were _right_.

The chapter continued, but Harry closed the book. It was clear what the story was meant to reflect.

He let himself fall down on the couch, cursing himself for his own stupidity because he hadn't had the courage to find out what his feelings for the former Death Eater actually meant.

He shut his eyes tightly, hoping that he could undo the major quarrel. It was impossible of course, but he did realize that everything wasn't over yet. Horrible things had been said and trust had been damaged, but it wasn't lost, not as long as one of them was able to admit his or her mistakes first.

As he took a deep breath, Harry decided that _he_ would be that first person. It was becoming more and more clear to him that Bellatrix Black was the woman he truly seemed to love, whether it was normal, destined and acceptable or not.

Automatically he put his wand in his pocket before he stood up and then he looked around in the living room for any clues of the place Bellatrix might be. There weren't any, so he walked upstairs, to the small attic; maybe she would've left a message in her bedroom.

When he climbed the few steps to her room, he immediately saw that Bellatrix wasn't there. The room was small and if there was someone, even if that person tried to hide, he would've noticed. However, there was something that _did_ catch his attention.

On the white sheets of her bed was a knife; he recognized it as the one that she had placed against his throat earlier. The blade had been a clean, shiny, silver then, but now it was covered in blood. It was _Bellatrix' _blood - he intuitively knew.

A few seconds Harry just stood there, completely in shock, wondering what possibly could've happened during the hour that he had been away. Had there been people hiding near the house, waiting until Harry was gone before they attacked Bellatrix? Had someone planned to do this and was it just coincidence that he spotted the knife or was there someone who _wanted_ him to find it?

Whatever was happening, Bellatrix needed his help. And whether she was still angry with him or not, whether she would want him to or not, he was determined to find her and save her from whatever had hurt her – or worse.

When he took his wand in his hand and hastily left the attic, he was filled with worry for Bellatrix and anger for whoever was responsible for hurting her. He was willing to risk his life to kill anybody who had harmed her, even if it was Voldemort himself.

Harry ran outside the house, holding his wand tightly, but he didn't feel the pain in his hands.

He looked around, hoping to see anything that would reveal something extraordinary that could give him some information that he would need to find Bellatrix and her attackers. But nowhere ahead was something unusual visible.

Only when he looked down, he spotted a red part in the sand. He didn't need to investigate the ground to know what had caused the different color.

He stared at the blood in horror, realizing that apparently Bellatrix had still been bleeding when she was forced to leave the cottage. He scanned the ground, thus noticing that a few yards away from the small pool of blood were a few drops of redness and relatively close to that, another few. They were faded as a result of the rain, but Harry could see that they formed some kind of trail, as a last memory of the fact that Bellatrix had walked there.

The distance between the drops of blood grew and the few foot prints which were visible in the sand told Harry that the person who had passed there had been running, but there were too many imprints of rain drops in the stand to be able to tell how many people had been there.

While he ran, following the footsteps, he cursed his own foolishness from earlier again. If he hadn't been so stupid, if he just had have listened to Bellatrix… After all, she had been right about them, but he had been too scared to admit it.

He could only hope now that it wasn't too late to find her and that she was still alive, or better, unharmed. And if he didn't arrive on time, the least he could do was torture Bellatrix' attackers before they could escape.

Anger controlled him, but not the familiar rage he had felt in the past, but a calm and determined wish to hurt, to _kill_.

The faded imprints of feet in the sand led towards a small pile of rocks on a cliff. Who or what had attacked Bellatrix, was _there_ behind the rocks, unless they had flown away, taking the woman with them, but there was no sign of that. Harry slowed down, catching his breath as he raised his wand. Soundlessly, he sneaked closer, approaching the rocks carefully.

He could feel everything around him in a way he had never done before. He was completely aware of everything: the chilly air, the rain, even the salty taste of the wind that cooled his skin. They all seemed to be watching him, to wait for his next move. And somehow, it felt right. Never before he had been so determined, so filled with confidence.

While he made himself ready to move towards the place behind the rocks where Bellatrix and her attackers probably were, he wondered what kind of curse he would use against whoever had hurt the woman he had somehow grown to love; a simple expelliarmus charm just wouldn't do in this case. The Cruciatus Curse… _that_ would serve them right. And he would _mean_ it this time.


End file.
